


Codas

by onlyapapermoon



Category: Glee
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Decisions, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1931529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyapapermoon/pseuds/onlyapapermoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of encounters between Will and Kurt over the first half of Season 2. Basically, there's a lot of porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Britney/Brittany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will decides to prove he's not as uptight as Kurt thinks.

“This is still unfair, Mr. Schue.”

 

Kurt hadn’t stopped glaring at him for the past half hour. If there had been other students in detention that day, Will suspected that he would have been able to ignore Kurt far more effectively, but as things were, the resentment in the air was so thick he could almost taste it. “No, Kurt. What’s unfair,” Will responded – very mildly in his own opinion, given the repeated provocations of his student – “is that even after I explained my reasons for not wanting to do Britney Spears, you continued to push the issue. No other teacher would have tolerated that kind of attempt to undermine their authority.”

 

Kurt narrowed his eyes. Will took a deep breath and reminded himself that he was going to ignore whatever he said this time. Kurt was clearly seeking attention, and Will was absolutely not going to give it to him.

 

Privately, Will cursed Figgins for making him supervise detention on the one day he had to march one of his students to the principal’s office.

 

“No other teacher would have ignored both a Facebook petition and the stated interest of all their students in doing something that could help their club,” Kurt said snippily. “And I very much doubt any other teacher would have taken it as a personal attack.” He had his hands folded tightly on the desk in front of him and was staring straight at Will, challenging him.

 

It had been a long enough day even without Kurt’s outburst. Emma was on his mind almost constantly now; he’d thought about her a lot before, but now she was there in every thought, in every image. He couldn’t get her smile, shaky and sweet after he kissed her, out of his head. And she was unavailable.

 

Even the peripheral thought of Carl – smarmy and overbearing, nowhere near Emma’s level – was enough to make Will’s teeth start grinding.

 

“You were being rude, Kurt. It’s your own fault you’re here.” Will focused hard on the Spanish worksheets he was grading, purposefully not looking up at Kurt.

 

“Please,” Kurt sniffed, and Will had to grit his teeth hard to not snap at him, “it’s hardly my fault you’re incapable of unbending enough to take initiative when-”

 

“Okay, that’s it!” Will stood up too quickly from his desk, the chair rolling back until it hit the wall unnoticed. “Get over here.”

 

Kurt’s eyes widened and he pressed his lips together tightly, not moving.

 

“Now,” Will ordered sharply.

 

Kurt automatically stood up and took a step towards him, then paused, as if startled by his own compliance. He shook off the confusion, though, and walked the rest of the way to Will’s desk, standing an arm’s length away with his chin held high and arms crossed defensively over his chest.

 

On some level, Will was glad that the teacher’s pet he’d known in the past was still there even if Kurt had taken to being openly disrespectful of late. The relief didn’t temper his frustration, though, so he still grabbed one of Kurt’s wrists roughly and tugged him forward. While Kurt was off balance, Will landed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down face-first onto the desk. Kurt made a noise of indignant surprise and immediately started struggling, knocking papers off the desk as he tried to push himself up.

 

“Stop that,” Will snapped, planning a firm hand between Kurt’s shoulder blades and keeping him pressed flat against the desk. When Kurt kept squirming, looking outraged, and opened his mouth to protest, Will lifted his free hand and brought it down sharply on his ass.

 

Kurt made an undignified sound and jerked against his hold. “What was that?” he nearly shrieked, his voice somehow hitting a higher octave than usual.

 

“That,” Will informed him, glad that his voice revealed only his irritation rather than his shock at his own actions, “was what happens when you behave disrespectfully and then refuse to apologize after it lands you in trouble.” He froze as soon as the words came out of his mouth. Sue’s personal brand of crazy aside, Figgins didn’t look kindly on corporal punishment of students, and Will never wanted to be the sort of teacher (or sort of man, really) who would hit a student. Objectively speaking, he had been provoked by students before, so there was no good reason why he should have lost control at that moment.

 

He was considering letting Kurt up and sending him away early so that they would both have time to cool down, but Kurt’s voice cut through his thoughts with an outraged “God, what is wrong with you?” Without his express permission, Will felt his hand increase the pressure on Kurt’s back, pushing him down harder. Kurt sputtered disbelievingly for a moment, then snapped, “Is this about Miss Pillsbury, Mr. Schue? Because I really don’t appreciate you taking your frustration out on me by proxy.”

 

Will gritted his teeth and let his hand land sharply on Kurt’s ass again. “That is none of your business,” he hissed. Kurt jumped at the stinging impact and turned to look over his shoulder disbelievingly.

 

“Are you seriously planning on spanking me?!” he exclaimed, his voice catching slightly on the word ‘spanking.’ His eyes were wide as he stared at Will, a flush of anger and growing humiliation staining his cheeks.

 

Will couldn’t believe that he wasn’t immediately saying ‘no,’ apologizing, and leaving the room right now. It would be the sensible thing to do, the only reasonable option.

 

But Kurt had ignored his authority all week, raised his voice to him in the rudest possible way, and had come dangerously close to embarrassing him in front of Emma (and Carl) the day before. Maybe he was having trouble keeping the respect of his fellow adults, but he certainly deserved the respect of his students. So, Will hardened the set of his mouth and gave a single decisive nod, pushing Kurt down harder when he tried to struggle upright again. “You’ve been acting up and behaving disrespectfully for days. You brought this on yourself.”

 

Kurt glared and opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a choked gasp as a third slap landed. His hands scrabbled fruitlessly on the wood of the desk, unsuccessfully seeking purchase to push himself up, but Will’s grip was relentless and the hits kept coming, methodically working his ass over. Will’s palm was starting to sting from the repeated impacts by the time Kurt was able to formulate anything more coherent than a muted yelp.

 

“You know what? This is why everyone has a problem with you right now!” Kurt almost screamed in the brief break Will took to shake the sting out of his hand. His face was flushed and his eyes were shining brightly with anger as he lifted his head to glare at Will again, torso still flat against the desk from the pressure of Will’s hand. “You’re too insecure to try anything new or take a risk, and when someone else suggests it, you fly off the handle and hide behind your position!”

 

Will scowled and smacked his ass again, harder than before. Kurt hissed and jerked against his hold. The next two hits weren’t angled properly and Will found his hand glancing to the side when it struck the fabric of Kurt’s… kilt (he refused to think of it as a skirt for the sake of his own sanity).

 

Kurt was grumbling something poisonous about Will’s authoritarian tendencies, but his voice cut off abruptly when Will flipped the fabric of the kilt up onto his lower back, leaving his ass covered only by the thin black leggings. He only managed to get out a shocked “What-“ before Will landed another hit, the impact harder and louder without the skir- kilt’s padding.

 

As the blows continued to land, sharp gasps now following each slap, Will very much did not notice that Kurt had ceased his vocal protests, or the way he was still squirming under the blows, but that his hands had found the opposite edge of the desk and were gripping it hard enough to turn his knuckles white. And if Will noticed the way the muscles in Kurt’s ass were clenching and flexing with each spank, well, it was only because his leggings were thin and clinging to the point of indecency. Will could understand why Figgins’ eyes had bulged when Kurt had walked (strutted, really, like he wasn’t rightly getting into trouble for behaving like a brat) into his office.

 

A particular smack low on the curve of his ass brought forth a subvocal sound that was suspiciously lacking in distress. Will paused, his hand raised in mid-air, and actually thought about the fact that he had his student bent over his desk and that said student was making a noise uncomfortably close to moaning.

 

When the pause went on, Kurt slowly lifted his head from where he’d buried his face in his arms, looking at Will with trepidation. Will caught his breath and cautiously let up on the pressure holding Kurt in place. Kurt didn’t move.

 

They stared at each other for a long uncomfortable second. Kurt’s face was still as red as it had been, but there was something unfocused about the confusion in his eyes, and his over-styled hair had somehow become mussed. Will realized belatedly that his own breath was coming faster than the exertion justified and his mouth felt suddenly dry. As Kurt drew his lower lip between his teeth and began to worry it lightly, Will felt a sharpness in his chest that he hoped to God was guilt and started to carefully pull away.

 

Kurt drew in a deep breath, his ribs expanding under Will’s retreating hand, and licked his lips (Will refused to allow his gaze to be drawn to the action). Before Will could completely disengage and step back, Kurt’s voice came, low and breathy and deliberate, “I guess I was right about you being too uptight.”

 

The air suddenly felt charged and Will froze. Rising to the challenge in Kurt’s – his student’s, for Christ’s sake – eyes would be an awful idea. It was against every rule. It would be a stupid risk to take, completely unnecessary and dangerous.

 

It would be “madness,” to use Emma’s word.

 

Will took a step closer, noticing the shudder that ran through Kurt’s body as he reduced the distance between them to mere inches. He placed a hand on the small of Kurt’s back, smoothing the skirt up again from where it had nearly slipped back down, pretending not to feel the way Kurt nearly arched into the touch even as he buried his face against the desk again.

 

There was something deeply wrong about this, Will thought as he let his other hand drift to the waistband of Kurt’s leggings, his fingers running along the edge and toying with it for a second before slipping his fingertips under the elastic. Kurt inhaled sharply at the skin-to-skin contact and went still as Will hooked his fingers into the band of the leggings and the underwear below and pulled them both down, the fabric making no noise as it bunched and slid down over Kurt’s ass, baring an expanse of pale skin reddened by repeated slaps. Will stopped when the leggings were down around Kurt’s knees and sucked in a breath at the sight he was presented with – Kurt bent over his desk, his bare, well-spanked ass in the air, trembling slightly with something Will didn’t care to name.

 

Will ran his fingertips lightly over the reddened skin, enjoying the smoothness and heat and the way Kurt tried not to lean back toward the touch. He pulled his hand back slightly and landed a sharp slap against him again, the crack of skin on skin loud and startling in the quiet room. Kurt gasped and pushed back into it. Will repeated the action twice more, watching avidly as new patches of color faded into existence on Kurt’s skin. He didn’t draw back after the last slap, leaving his palm open and flat against Kurt’s ass, rubbing soothing circles that drew forth a breathy moan.

 

The next spank was short and light, but Kurt still arched his back and made a strangled sound at the abruptness of it. A low whine of “Mr. Schue” escaped his throat and Will wished with all his being that it wasn’t turning him on further.

 

His palm was stinging again as he rained a series of light taps against Kurt’s ass, followed by an unexpectedly forceful spank that made Kurt whimper and unconsciously spread his legs, even hindered as he was by the leggings. Will wasn’t sure when he’d gotten so close, but the next thing he knew, his hand was on Kurt’s bare hip, drawing him back slightly, and his crotch was pressing directly against his student’s ass. Kurt gasped raggedly at the contact, and even through the denim of his jeans, he could feel the heat radiating from Kurt’s skin.

 

“God, you’re burning up,” he heard himself say, his voice gone husky and low. Kurt was pushing back into him, and he could feel the way his erection, uncomfortably straining against the fly of his jeans, rested perfectly in the groove of Kurt’s ass.

 

“And whose fault is that?” Kurt observed breathlessly, looking up from the desk.

 

Will frowned and moved his other hand down to Kurt’s hip as well so that he could hold him in place and grind sharply against him, biting his lip at the pleasurable friction and pressure. Kurt let out a choked noise at the feel of denim roughly dragging against his sore ass, but tried to lean into it all the same. Will rubbed himself firmly against Kurt, slowly humping his ass. He could feel the muscles flexing against him, twitching as he dragged his clothed erection up and down his crack, dragging the pleasure and frustration out until Kurt hissed out a desperate, irritated “Mr. Schue, stop teasing or I swear to god I’ll tell Coach Sylvester where you hide your hair gel!”

 

Will scowled and pulled back enough to land a sharp swat on Kurt’s ass again. “I thought you were going to behave,” he huffed, taking both hands off Kurt so he could fumble his belt open, then the button of his jeans.

 

“I never promised that,” Kurt pointed out archly, propping himself up on his elbows so that he could look back properly and watch as Will slid his zipper down.

 

As he pulled his pants open and tugged the waistband of his boxers down until his cock sprang free, Will couldn’t decide which was more gratifying, the blissful lack of constriction on his erection or Kurt’s suddenly-parted lips and expression of awe at the sight.

 

“Mr. Schue, let me…” Kurt appeared to be momentarily speechless and Will felt a surge of satisfaction. He still laid a hand on Kurt’s upper back and pushed him back down, though, when he tried to turn around to face Will fully. Kurt followed the direction reluctantly, continuing to glance over his shoulder.

 

“No,” Will said firmly, “you’re staying where you are.” He fisted his cock with his free hand for a moment, sighing in relief at the sensation. Kurt’s eyes widened in interest and he tried to surge up again, so Will pushed him down firmly, keeping him flat against the desk. Will reluctantly let go of himself so that he could grip Kurt’s hip again, holding him still as he moved forward and rested his cock between Kurt’s cheeks. The rise and fall of Kurt’s back under his hand sped up as he pressed closer and Kurt’s buttocks clenched around the shaft between them, all smooth skin and burning heat from the spanking he’d endured. Will fought back a groan.

 

He began to thrust, rubbing himself against Kurt’s ass with pre-come slightly easing the friction. Kurt made a soft high noise with each grind as the denim and open zipper of Will’s jeans scraped gently against his over-sensitized skin, but he struggled to spread his legs wider all the same. Will nudged at the inside of Kurt’s knee with one of his to urge him to spread them even more, and when Kurt tried to comply, stopping only when his leggings blocked him from going further, Will rewarded him with an especially hard grind.

 

Will leaned forward so that he was nearly covering Kurt with his body, one hand pinning him down and the other resting beside his shoulder to support Will’s weight as he pressed as close as he could, pumping his hips in long strokes that made Kurt shudder under him. Kurt’s hands were fisted around the far edge of the desk again and he was panting softly as his teacher’s cock slid and rubbed between his cheeks, occasionally clenching around it and making Will groan at the increased friction.

 

At the start of a particularly low thrust, Will felt the head of his cock drag over Kurt’s hole, drawing a muffled whimper from him. Will purposefully repeated the movement on the next, slower stroke, and he could feel the head of his erection catch momentarily on the rim. Kurt went very still and Will paused, wondering if he had somehow crossed a line (he’d thought they had left all lines in the dust miles back, but perhaps not). But then Kurt surged back as best he could from his pinned position, pressing back against Will and trying to rub against him until Will got the message and started to move again.

 

It took a second for Will to realize that Kurt was whispering “Please, please, please.”

 

Will kept his thrusts lighter than before and leaned in closer, flattening his chest to Kurt’s back, his jacket falling open to cover them both. “What do you want?” he asked quietly, his breath puffing against Kurt’s ear.

 

Even with Kurt pressing his burning face against the cool wood of the desk, Will could see a blotchy flush creeping along his ears and neck. “I want you to-“ Kurt started, but cut off with a moan when Will gave a harder thrust against his ass. “Please, Mr. Schue!”

 

Will shook his head and gentled his thrusts again. “No,” he said, aware of the smugness creeping into his tone, “I need you to tell me what you want. You were having no trouble with that earlier today.”

 

Kurt turned his head to the side enough to glare venomously at him, the effect somewhat ruined by the way he was panting through softly parted lips. “Now is not the time to play authority figure, Mr. Schue,” he hissed. “You know exactly what I mean.”

 

Will shrugged, the movement causing his shirt to drag against Kurt’s, but he trailed the hand he’d used to pin Kurt downwards. Kurt hissed when Will’s fingers finally reached the bared skin below his waist, teasing and soothing against the lingering sting. Will didn’t go any farther, though, just running his fingers lightly over the globes of Kurt’s ass and making him squirm back against Will’s cock.

 

“Please,” Kurt repeated desperately. Will didn’t respond aside from giving his ass another light spank. Kurt arched into it with a frustrated moan and whined “Mr. Schue…”

 

Will tenderly massaged the spot he’d just struck and leaned in so he could whisper into Kurt’s ear again. “You’ve been saying that I’m too uptight, Kurt, but if you’re not able to say what you want, I don’t think we should be doing this.”

 

Kurt shuddered at the hot breath on his ear and closed his eyes tightly for a second before turning to meet Will’s eyes, only inches away. “Fine, then,” he snapped. “Fine! I want you to screw me.” If possible, even more blood rushed under his skin, deepening his flush, but he didn’t look away, continuing to glare at Will in challenge. “Do you think you can handle that?”

 

Will hadn’t thought he could get any harder, but apparently he still could. He lifted himself off of Kurt while keeping his pelvis in place, pinning Kurt against the desk, and threw the side drawers of the desk open. Kurt looked confused but didn’t move, looking like he was holding his breath as Will searched haphazardly through the drawers for what he knew he’d seen in there earlier.

 

Will made a triumphant noise and slammed the drawers shut, sending vibrations through the desk. He dropped the tub of Vaseline onto the desk and Kurt craned his neck to stare at it.

 

“Really?” Kurt sounded far too disdainful for someone who had just been begging to be fucked.

 

Will scowled and ground his hips into Kurt’s until Kurt couldn’t hold on to the sneer any more. He had confiscated it from Brittany during class – God only knew what she had been trying to do with it – and it was the best thing on hand. Will preferred to use hand lotion when he jacked off on his own, but from what he’d read about anal play, something thicker would be needed. He had never attempted it before, but he had done some research for things he and Terri could do while she was pregnant, and though the associations still sent a pang through him, he couldn’t help a rush of curiosity – he and Terri had never got around to trying it, and anal sex was the last thing he could think of in association with Emma (the thought of Emma stung for a second, but Kurt was looking up at him with eyes that were wide and reluctantly trusting, and it was close enough to the way she’d looked at him the night of their first date).

 

He unscrewed the top and dipped his fingers in, gathering the oil thickly onto two of them, and pressed his hips harder into Kurt when he started to shift impatiently. He left the tub open on the side and laid his clean hand on Kurt’s back to keep him still as he reluctantly pulled away from his ass. When his coated fingers were just brushing the skin around Kurt’s entrance, though, he paused. “You are… clean, right?”

 

Kurt blinked and then craned his neck back to stare at him. “As soon as I find anyone in this town who’d be interested in passing along venereal diseases, you’ll be the first to know, Mr. Schue,” he assured him snidely. He hesitated. “And you?” His voice was suddenly quiet, a note of trepidation sneaking into it.

 

Will nodded firmly. “I haven’t been… active since my separation, and I was clean as of my last check.”

 

Despite the situation and the fact that Will’s slick fingers were stroking lightly around the outside of his hole, Kurt still managed to zero in on the gossip. “Wait, really?” he exclaimed. “Because until Miss Pillsbury started seeing Dr. Howell, everyone knew that you two were together, and when she called you out for being a slut-“

 

“Kurt, now is really not the time,” Will snapped, pulling his fingers away from toying with Kurt’s entrance so he could land an open-handed slap against his ass. Kurt jumped against his hold and Will observed with satisfaction that it brought back some of the color that had begun to fade from his skin.

 

Kurt narrowed his eyes and looked like he was about to retort until Will returned his fingers to where they had been and resumed his stroking more purposefully. When the tip of his pointer finger wriggled its way in, Kurt gave a surprised gasp and let his forehead rest against the desk. Will didn’t move, penetrating him with just his fingertip as the muscles fluttered around it.

 

So far, so good, he thought, and cautiously slid the finger in further, the Vaseline slicking the way. Kurt shifted as if unsure of what to make of the feeling, but didn’t offer any protest. Will took a deep breath and dragged his finger out, curiously cataloguing the strange clenching feeling, then swiftly pushed it back in to the third knuckle. Kurt made a soft sound, but although Will wasn’t sure if it was pleasure, he was positive it wasn’t out of pain, so he began slowly pumping his finger in his ass. He waited until Kurt began to push back towards the intrusion before venturing to add a second finger; the book he’d consulted had been hazy on how long preparation would take, but he figured that it was better to be overly patient than to wind up with an injured student.

 

When Kurt tensed slightly at the additional penetration, Will used the hand on his back to rub soothing circles, keeping him down but waiting until he’d relaxed to move his fingers again. “Have you ever done anything like this?” he asked in a low, conversational tone.

 

“I’ve… used a finger on myself,” Kurt admitted into the desk, leaning back into the pressure in his ass once he got used to the new stretch. “But only ever one.” He apparently felt Will suddenly hesitate, because he surged back onto the fingers a second later, impaling himself on them. “Don’t stop,” he urged, gripping the edge of the desk hard again.

 

Will grabbed the back of Kurt’s sweater and used it to haul him the few inches back to where he had been, ignoring the indignant sound Kurt made at the potential damage to the fabric. He deliberately pushed away the brief thought about whether it was the slightest bit appropriate that he was about to be his student’s first time and pumped his fingers as deep as they would go, making Kurt squirm against the desk.

 

Once Kurt was breathing hard and trying unsuccessfully to thrust back onto Will’s hand, Will decided it was time. He withdrew his fingers and dipped them into the Vaseline again, collecting a glob in his hand and then smearing it onto his cock, which was still half hard after the long period without stimulation. He hissed between his teeth at the cool temperature as he slicked himself thoroughly and Kurt looked back at the sound, his eyes widening.

 

“Are you going to do it now?” Kurt was trying too hard to sound uncaring, but there was a tremble of anticipation lacing his voice.

 

Will felt oddly proud of himself for putting that there, for finally being able to bring Kurt in line as he nodded. “Are you ready?” Kurt nodded back, widened eyes locked on Will’s hand as he stroked his erection back to fullness.

 

Will increased the pressure between Kurt’s shoulderblades until Kurt had to lie facedown again and used his free hand to steady the base of his cock so that he could position the head against Kurt’s entrance. “Take a deep breath and then exhale,” he instructed Kurt sternly. When Kurt obeyed, ribcage expanding and falling under his hand, Will surged forward, burying himself halfway in on the first thrust.

 

Kurt made a tight, pained sound, and his ass clenched down around Will’s cock. Will had to struggle not to move, so he petted Kurt’s ass lightly instead, stroking the fading red marks that littered his skin as Kurt tried to relax around him.

 

“You’re going to be okay,” Will assured him, resisting the urge to force himself further into the clenching, hot channel. “Just calm down, Kurt, you can handle this.” Slowly, the tight grip on his cock lessened and Will was able to rock forward a little, sinking in an inch deeper. “That’s good, come on…” He could feel Kurt’s breath becoming even and deliberate as he relaxed enough to let Will slide in the rest of the way.

 

Kurt made a curious sound as he was filled completely, Will’s open zipper and denim pressed against his skin once again, and Will couldn’t help giving a tiny experimental shift that drew a whine as the rough material dragged at bare skin.

 

Will took a second to take deep breaths and concentrate on the sensation. It was different than what he’d experienced before, but it was – it was good. Kurt wasn’t moving, but the muscles in his ass were fluttering around him, and the tight grip on his cock was making Will want to move, and soon. “Are you ready for me to start?” he asked, keeping his voice as even as possible.

 

Kurt nodded and tried to spread his legs apart again, to no further avail. “Yeah,” he said, sounding breathless, “start.”

 

Will had pulled halfway out when the content of Kurt’s request processed. He didn’t want to torture himself more than he needed to, but… “’Start,’ what?”

 

Kurt looked back over his shoulder and stared at him incredulously. “Start moving?” he tried, unable to thrust himself back onto Will due to the hand holding him down.

 

Will shook his head, even though every part of him but his sense of pride and indignation from before was screaming at him to stop standing around with his cock half out in the cold air and just start fucking him. “When you request something from now on, I expect it to be in a more polite form, Kurt.”

 

Kurt’s jaw dropped for a second before he snapped his mouth shut and glared at him. “Alright then,” he said in a tone of exaggerated patience, “Mr. Schue, would you please spare me the lecture and would you please start freaking moving already?”

 

It wasn’t anywhere near the tone he’d hoped for, but Will didn’t care enough to resist anymore. He’d tried, at least. He snapped his hips forward, burying himself in Kurt again. Kurt sounded like he was trying to say “Finally,” but when Will’s denim-covered hips slapped against his ass, he broke off into a groan. Will dragged his cock out again, savoring the slick slide and near-painful tightness before slamming back in. Kurt tried to arch his back, but Will’s hand kept him pressed flat against the desk with no opportunity for movement.

 

Will went slow at first, giving Kurt time to adjust between thrusts, but once Kurt started panting and squirming against him, he sped up. Soon, Kurt’s ass was reddening again from the friction of Will’s jeans, and he once or twice let out a shocked groan and clenched down around Will’s cock when he thrust in at a certain angle. “How is it?” Will panted, because the book had suggested checking in with your partner periodically.

 

“It’s good,” Kurt said faintly. His legs were starting to tremble, Will noticed, and he curved his free hand around Kurt’s hip to keep him from moving under the force of the thrusts. “Harder?” Will’s movements stuttered and Kurt hurriedly added an exasperated “-please?”

 

Will acquiesced, increasing the force of his movements until Kurt started to pitch against the desk with each thrust, his muffled moans letting Will know that his efforts were being appreciated.

 

Will could feel his own climax starting to build; he hadn’t been intimate with anyone in a very long time, and the sensations were almost too much. Kurt was still writhing under him and breathing “please please please,” and on an impulse, he let go of Kurt’s hip and cracked his hand sharply against his ass with the next thrust. Kurt stiffened and clenched tight around Will, making him groan at the sudden constriction.

 

“Again?” Kurt breathed, not looking at him.

 

Will nodded even though Kurt couldn’t see, and spanked him again with each thrust, varying the intensities and locations of the sharp hits, even as he could feel his own movements becoming more erratic as he edged towards the end.

 

When Kurt hissed after a particularly hard slap, Will paused, cock still buried deep in him, and rubbed his hand soothingly along the spot he’d just struck, the skin burning hot under his hand. Kurt made a high helpless noise and tightened around him, and that was it.

 

Will’s orgasm caught him completely off guard, and he distantly felt himself collapse forward onto Kurt as his hips twitched, forcing his cock even deeper inside as he spilled into him. Kurt moaned and tried to push back, but Will couldn’t bring himself to do more than lie there for a second as the liquid feeling of release ran through his body.

 

Kurt shifted restlessly, though, and Will pulled out with great care, hissing as his over-sensitized flesh left Kurt’s body and was exposed to the cold air. He grimaced at the state of his dick, still shiny with Vaseline and his own come, and was looking for the Kleenex box when Kurt shakily propped himself up on his elbows and fixed him with a desperate look. “Mr. Schue, please don’t tell me you’re going to leave me hanging like this.” Will found himself almost charmed by Kurt’s desperation – until he sharply continued, “Contrary to popular opinion, I know you aren’t that thoughtless.”

 

Will stared at him, the high of his orgasm giving way all too quickly. He nearly considered letting Kurt deal with it himself until he caught a glimpse of the slick shine on the insides of Kurt’s bare thighs from excess Vaseline and a few trickles of Will’s own come. Some things were just common courtesy.

 

So Will took a deep breath and reached around Kurt to grab his cock, relishing the gasp he provoked. He stroked firmly, the remnants of the Vaseline making the pulls easier. Kurt tensed and bucked into his hand, but Will could see him growing ever more frustrated as his orgasm eluded him. “Mr. Schue,” he said tightly, voice hitching as Will gave his wrist a flick, “It isn’t – I think I need-“ He bit his lip hard enough to turn it white, and Will couldn’t help feeling oddly smug as he swung his hand down without being asked and spanked his ass harshly. Kurt yelped and jerked forward into his fist, shivering hard. It took two more hard slaps and a firm stroke from his cock’s root to tip, and he was spilling over Will’s fist with a full-body shudder. He sunk back down onto the desk bonelessly as Will found a Kleenex and used it to wipe his hand, then his own cock.

 

Will puttered around for a moment, capping the Vaseline tub and replacing it guiltily in a drawer, then awkwardly tucking himself back into his boxers and doing up his fly and belt, hoping that the small spots of Vaseline on his jeans wouldn’t be too obvious. By the time he was done, Kurt was stirring on the desk, pushing himself upright and wincing as he put all his weight on his legs for the first time since Will had pushed him down on the desk. He wobbled slightly as he stood, but quickly recovered and then made a face of disgust, reaching back behind him to dab his fingers over his entrance, grimacing when he saw how slick they came away.

 

Will took pity on him and put a hand on his shoulder, nudging him back down again. Kurt gave him a dubious look for a second, but acquiesced, bending over the desk for him. Will tried not to let his quickened breathing at the reaction show, and kindly grabbed a fresh Kleenex and used to gently clean off the area around Kurt’s ass and thighs. Even though the tissue was soft enough, in Will’s opinion, Kurt still hissed like Will was abrading his skin with sandpaper. Will finished as quickly and carefully as he could, then reached down around Kurt’s knees to pull up his underwear and leggings, carefully easing the fabric over his sore ass. He then took the hem of the skirt between his fingers and carefully tugged it back down, covering Kurt again. Will caught himself smoothing down the pleats in the back and let his hand slip under the hem one last time, resting his hand flat against Kurt’s ass and absorbing the heat from his skin as it radiated faintly through the leggings.

 

He gave Kurt a last light pat and then pulled his hand out from under his skirt. Kurt waited until he’d taken a step back to straighten and stand up again. “I take it that means detention is over?” he asked casually.

 

Will nodded, drawing himself back into the world where he was a teacher, where he had certainly not just had sex with one of his students. “It is. I hope you’ve learned a lesson from this.” He also hoped that lesson had been the one about respect he’d intended and wasn’t ‘seducing your teachers is easy’ or something equally unfortunate.

 

Kurt nodded and walked stiffly back to his chair to collect his things, his steps hitching every few strides. He was almost out the door, skirt twitching distractingly as he walked and making it hard for Will to remember that nothing had happened, when he turned his head over his shoulder and informed Will, “I did learn a lot today, Mr. Schue, thank you: I need to push harder to get what I want, and you have definite control issues.” He smiled brightly and gave a little finger-wave. “See you in Glee!”

 

As the door slammed, Will buried his head in his hands and reflected that it was going to be a long week.


	2. Grilled Cheesus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will knows that, ideally, this isn't how comforting a student should go, but it's the best he can do.

Will was trying not to think about it. The… incident hadn’t changed Kurt’s behavior towards him; Will supposed he was thankful for that, although it meant that he still hadn’t been able to get Kurt to be more considerate in his remarks to the other members of the club. As a result, he’d been halfway considering pulling Kurt aside to chastise him for being rude by ignoring Puck’s performance when Emma had arrived, eyes wide and lips trembling, with the news.  
  


Will had offered what help he could; he had gone to the hospital with Kurt and Emma, waited with them, and kept a hand resting on Kurt’s shoulder as long as he’d let him. Since then, though, Kurt had turned away from any attempts to help him. He’d been sullen and cutting to most of the glee club, and Will had watched him shrug off even Finn’s attempt at contact. Will wished he could think of something that would help. Unfortunately, he didn’t feel it would be appropriate to talk to Kurt one-on-one after their encounter in detention; Kurt might get the wrong impression if he called him into his office, and the last thing Will wanted to do was take advantage of a student’s emotional state, regardless of his own feelings about the encounter. So instead, he did what could to stand up for Kurt and let him know that he hadn’t chased away everyone yet, and he waited for Kurt to realize at his own pace that he couldn’t deal with everything alone.  
  


And then the doorbell rang sometime after ten on Wednesday night. When he opened the door, Kurt was standing there alone.  
  


Will blinked and held the door open for a moment before he could think of something to say. Kurt was wearing a different outfit from the one he’d worn to school, but the expression that said he was barely holding it together was still there.  
  


“Mr. Schue.” Kurt’s voice barely wavered, but Will could see the white-knuckled grip of his fingers on his opposite wrist and he finally remembered himself, stepping to the side so that Kurt could come in.  
  


When Kurt was in the entryway, Will shut the door behind him and studied him. He didn’t look as completely destroyed as he had that day at the hospital, but he was doing a worse job of keeping a stiff upper lip than he had earlier at school. “Did something happen?” he asked cautiously, dreading the answer.  
  


Kurt shook his head. It didn’t appear that his father’s condition had worsened, at least, so Will heaved an internal sigh of relief. “No. Some people came over and decided that they wanted to have a prayer circle, but other than that, nothing.” His voice was tight and dismissive, and Will didn’t feel the need to ask how that had gone over. He hoped that whichever kids had come in would still be on speaking terms with Kurt tomorrow.  
  


Instead, he asked, as gently as he could, “Kurt, what are you doing here?”  
  


Kurt couldn’t quite look at him, but stared at the picture frame behind Will’s shoulder as he said, in a tone that wanted to be matter-of-fact, “Visiting hours are over and they wouldn’t let me stay. I couldn’t-“ he broke off and hesitated before admitting, with an odd edge of tension, “The house was very quiet tonight. I was wondering if I could stay here.”  
  


Will remembered Kurt turning down his offer to stay with him on the night his father landed in the hospital. He had dropped Kurt off at his own house with a feeling of great reluctance, remembering the silence of his own apartment in the first few days after Terri had left. Boards had creaked, pipes had made odd sounds in the night, and the stillness had been so oppressive that he’d had to play music constantly on the rare times he could bring himself to stick around for more than sleeping and eating.  
  


“Of course you can stay,” he said. He wanted to add that Kurt shouldn’t have been living alone in the first place, but Kurt’s moods had been on a hair trigger lately, and he didn’t want to drive him off. “I’ll change the sheets on the bed and set up the couch for myself-“  
  


“No.” It was soft, but the single word cut Will off immediately when he saw that Kurt was finally looking at him, desperation and that familiar drive lurking under the distance of the last few days. Kurt took a deep breath and closed the gap between them by half a step. “You don’t need to do that,” he said.  
  


Will froze. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Kurt had allowed him to give physical comfort while rejecting it from others, and with memories of last week still fresh (for both of them, much as it embarrassed Will to admit), it would have been more surprising if Kurt hadn’t tried to make another move. From a few significant looks and gestures at the time, Will suspected that he’d been trying to make one after the pep assembly and had only been prevented from doing so by the fire alarm and the resultant riot. Will wished he could say it likely wouldn’t have come to anything. The difference between that moment and the current one, though, was that now Kurt was living with the knowledge that he might become an orphan at any second, and while he was reacting better than could be expected, that didn’t mean that Will trusted him to make well-thought-out decisions.  
  


“Kurt,” he said gently, not reacting as Kurt shifted closer again, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You’re going through a hard time right now and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”  
  


Kurt stopped just a foot away from him and shook his head sharply, looking more intent than he had in days (though the desperation driving it kept Will from hoping too much about his emotional state). “I want this, Mr. Schue. Believe me, I want this.” He reached out and Will lifted an eyebrow at Kurt’s boldness as his hand slid over Will’s shoulder to his back and he pressed himself flush against him. “You want it, too, don’t you?” he urged.  
  


Will cursed the thin fabric of his t-shirt that allowed him to feel Kurt’s hands all too clearly as one landed on his chest and started to cautiously explore the muscles there, tracing from his collarbone down to his abs, while the other fisted into the material above his shoulder blade. The feeling of Kurt’s body pressed warm against his was making it uncomfortably easy for memories of that one time to flash into his head again – Kurt panting under him, pinned to the desk, hot and tight and clutching around him – and he soon had reason to curse the thinness of his pajama pants as well, because there was no way Kurt could miss the effect he was having.  
  


With a great effort, Will made himself grab Kurt’s hands and tug them away before the one on his front could go any lower. He gathered both unresisting wrists into one hand and used the other to push at Kurt’s shoulder until he took a shocked step back, staring at Will wide-eyed and looking stung by the rejection.  
  


“Mr. Schue,” he nearly pleaded, “Why not?”  
  


Will shook his head firmly and tried to ignore the (completely inappropriate) erection tenting his pajama pants, even when Kurt’s eyes flicked to it pointedly. “Because you’re not in a place to be making good decisions right now,” he said in as level a tone as he could manage. Kurt’s face twisted and he tried to wrench away from him, but Will tightened his grip on his wrists and held on to his shoulder, holding his ground. “It’s not a question of interest, it’s a question of acting as a responsible adult.” He knew that he was lecturing, but he tried to keep it sounding kind and reasonable, rather than patronizing.  
  


Kurt tried to jerk his wrists away again, to no further avail. “So, what, it’s okay to throw me across a desk and whip out your dick, but you can’t do this without risking your sense of professionalism?”  
  


Will felt himself flush a little at Kurt’s description of the encounter, but ignored the glare being aimed at him. “It’s not about that, and you know it,” he said wearily, wishing he could gentle his hold on Kurt’s wrists but aware that he would probably storm away if given half a chance. God knew that the last thing Kurt needed at this point was another opportunity to isolate himself. Will wasn’t going to let himself give in and give Kurt what he was asking for, but he wasn’t going to let him go without some kind of help, either.  
  


“What is it, then?” Though his gaze was still intense, the earlier surprised hurt was shifting into something more antagonistic, and Kurt tried to wriggle free of Will’s grip again, forcing Will to clamp his hand down hard on his shoulder and squeeze his wrists until Kurt winced and Will was afraid there would be bruises (and God, wouldn’t that look awful if he had to explain it). “Why not? Is this about Miss Pillsbury finally talking to you again?” Kurt asked, and Will had to remind himself that Kurt was just lashing out, like he had at Mercedes and Quinn and Finn. “Because I know she was mad at you last week, but just because she’s getting along with you again doesn’t mean she’s stopped being serious about Dr. Howell.”  
  


Will continued to hold back from saying anything, but Kurt pressed on, eyes sharp and still suspiciously red-rimmed. “She’s not interested in you anymore, Mr. Schue. Playing nice with her won’t make her fall for you again.“ The attempt to provoke wasn’t subtle. To be fair, Kurt didn’t do “subtle” well at the best of times, but at the moment, the intent behind his words was painfully obvious, especially given the way he practically curled into the hand restraining him.  
  


“Kurt, stop,” Will ordered. “You’re out of line.” He belatedly remembered to add, “And, besides, that isn’t going to work.”  
  


Kurt closed his mouth reluctantly, pressing his lips tightly together, but the determined look didn’t go away. “What would work, then?” he asked, low and challenging.  
  


Will refused to become frustrated, and he certainly wasn’t going to become interested. He stared resolutely over Kurt’s head at the wall, ignoring the tense silence that fell. Kurt was shifting slightly, and he could feel him periodically trying to wrench himself free of Will’s grip, but he wasn’t about to let him run off again.  
  


His hand around Kurt’s wrists had begun to become clammy and sore from the extended effort when Kurt eventually stopped trying to jerk away. He chanced a look down as he felt Kurt sag against his hold, the tension draining from his body, and saw that Kurt had turned his face to the side and had a strange, closed-off expression. Will frowned and squeezed Kurt’s shoulder a little harder in an attempt to regain his focus.  
  


Kurt’s jaw tightened. He didn’t look back at Will when he spoke, and his voice was slow and reluctant, as if each word was bruising his pride. “Mr. Schue, do you remember how you asked if there was anything you could do to help?”  
  


Will remembered. He hadn’t thought that Kurt did; it had been as he let Kurt out of the car after they left the hospital that first day. Kurt had nodded in response at the time, but he had looked so lost, Will wasn’t sure he was actually processing any of it. Will nodded.  
  


Kurt swallowed and finally darted a desperate glance back at Will. “Then, _please_."  
  


The guilt was still there, a little knot in his gut reminding him that ‘inappropriate’ barely began to cover the situation, but he was done fighting. The need in that glance wasn’t something he could refuse and the unexpected surge of relief overwhelmed his lingering guilt, anyway. Without meaning to, Kurt had given him an out, of sorts. He could hardly refuse his student when he was asking – pleading – for something after turning away every other offer of help.  
  


Will used the hand on Kurt’s wrists to tug him forward, pulling him so that he landed hard against Will’s chest, hands trapped between them. He slid his other hand from Kurt’s shoulder to his chin, tipping it up slightly so Kurt was forced to meet his eyes. Kurt leaned in to the touch. “Is this what you were asking for?” Will asked carefully, needing to be sure.  
  


Kurt was practically draped against him, but he didn’t want to risk anything – before Burt Hummel’s heart attack, he’d never have considered describing Kurt as fragile; despite an occasionally misleading first impression, the boy was pure steel. No matter what he put up with on a daily basis, he seemed somehow indestructible, perpetually defiant and self-assured to the point of arrogance. But with his father in the hospital, Will had seen Kurt crumble. While he was still meticulously groomed and dressed, there was a permanent slump to his shoulders and the last five minutes were the longest Will had seen him go without tears threatening. Will was halfway between afraid and positive that if anything happened to Burt Hummel, it would break him.  
  


So Will watched carefully for Kurt’s answer, not wanting to make things worse, even though a large part of him (the part that remembered the last time and the part that selfishly reminded him that it had been a full year since he’d been with anyone apart from that incident) whispered that Kurt had already pleaded with him to get a move on, and his hang-ups were just a stalling tactic at this point.  
  


“Yes,” Kurt breathed, his hands curling into Will’s t-shirt, “ _god_ , yes. Please, just-“  
  


When Will released his wrists, Kurt immediately snaked his arms around Will’s neck, pulling their bodies even closer together until Will worried vaguely about whether there would be room to breathe. The thought struck him as unimportant, though, because both his hands had somehow found their way down to rest on Kurt’s ass, and he couldn’t help rubbing his palms over the material of Kurt’s slacks, mapping out the now-familiar territory underneath. Kurt’s arms tightened and his hips jolted forward into Will’s at the touch as he leaned down to rest his forehead against Will’s shoulder. Will gripped at his flesh harder through the fabric, and was rewarded with sharp hot breaths puffing through the thin material of his shirt. Kurt was already hard against his thigh, grinding unconsciously forward into Will and back onto his hands.  
  


“Come on,” Will said after a particular squeeze led to Kurt whining low in his throat. He reluctantly let go and stepped back. Kurt unwound his arms from Will’s neck, looking disappointed. “Bed,” Will explained as he laid a hand firmly on the back of Kurt’s neck, curving around like a warm collar. “Messing around on the floor only _sounds_ like a good idea, trust me.” Kurt shivered as the hand encircled the nape of his neck and nodded, following without complaint when Will used it to direct him further into the apartment.  
  


Will steered him through the two doorways until they were in the bedroom, then hesitated. The bed was unmade and, although he was hardly a slob, there was still a pile of dirty laundry in the corner that he hadn’t gotten around to. He hadn’t been expecting company, but if anyone in the world would be unwilling to accept that as an excuse, it would be Kurt.  
  


Kurt didn’t say anything about the state of the room, though, and just closed his eyes and leaned against the pressure of Will’s hand. Will squeezed lightly to get his attention again, and when Kurt’s eyes fluttered open and he looked at him, he took a breath and used his free hand to tug lightly at the hem of Kurt’s vest. “You should probably get these off.” Kurt nodded after a second and began unbuttoning it, sliding it off without dislodging Will’s hand. He hesitated with his fingers on the top button of his shirt, though, and Will sighed and pulled Kurt towards him, bringing Kurt’s back against his chest and replacing Kurt’s hands with his own. “Are you getting nervous?”  
  


He toyed with the top button without undoing it, letting Kurt lean back against him and collect himself. “No,” Kurt said stubbornly, after a moment’s pause. “Aren’t you going to keep going?” The hint of impatient mockery in his voice was obviously forced, but Will went along with it rather than pointing it out. He carefully undid each button over Kurt’s chest, working his way down as Kurt pressed back against him, hands finding their way back to rest on Will’s hips and tangle into the fabric of his pajama bottoms. When the last button was undone, Will tugged the ends of the shirt free of Kurt’s slacks and pulled it open, making Kurt shiver as his skin was suddenly exposed to the air.  
  


“Still okay?” Will murmured, sliding his hands under the open edges of the shirt onto newly bared skin. Kurt nodded, pressing impatiently back against Will’s crotch when one of Will’s hands came to a stop splayed against his abdomen, pinky just barely sliding under the waistband of his slacks.  
  


Will didn’t move right away, but dragged his finger back and forth in a slow arc under the material, making Kurt squirm in frustration. “Mr. Schue, you’re teasing again,” Kurt hissed, trying to turn around in Will’s grip but prevented from doing so by the arm Will wrapped around his chest.  
  


“I’m taking things slowly,” Will corrected him, although he did stop the light caress in favor of popping the button on Kurt’s slacks and dragging down the zipper. Kurt nearly sagged against him in relief as Will’s hand slid into the open fabric, curiously exploring the hard shape of him.  
  


“I’m not interested in ‘slowly,’ Mr. Schue,” Kurt breathed, hooking his own hands into his belt loops and abruptly pushing his slacks down to his thighs.  
  


Will scowled and gave his cock a light warning squeeze through his boxer-briefs. It didn’t have the desired effect, though, as Kurt just sighed and jerked into the movement involuntarily. Without the layer of Kurt’s slacks in between them, it was getting harder for Will to ignore temptation, though, so he brought his hand up to rest on the elastic band on Kurt’s boxer-briefs, ignoring the disappointed sigh as his hand left Kurt’s cock. “Do you want me to?” he asked quietly, leaning forward so that he was practically whispering in Kurt’s ear.  
  


Kurt shuddered and balled his hands into fists at his side, presumably to avoid the temptation of helping. “Yes.”  
  


“Yes, what?” Will had to stifle a tiny smile as Kurt turned to him incredulously. Despite the flush staining his cheeks, the expression on Kurt’s face was closer to normal than he’d seen on him in days.  
  


“Oh my god, you have such _issues_ ,” Kurt hissed, staring at him disbelievingly. “Just do it already!” When Will’s hand stayed where it was, just stroking at the exposed skin above the band teasingly, Kurt gritted his teeth and forced out, “Please, Mr. Schue.”  
  


Will acquiesced, hooking his fingers into the elastic and pushing it down so that it joined the tangle of fabric already around Kurt’s thighs.  
  


Kurt didn’t have time to get out the cutting remark that he was clearly formulating before Will’s hand wrapped around him fully. Kurt had to lean back against him, then, Will’s arm across his chest providing stability that Will knew he would never admit to needing, even though his hands came up to clutch at it. Will’s strokes were short and dry, and both winced slightly at the friction, but it didn’t stop Kurt from gasping and bucking into the touch. His fingers dug too hard into Will’s forearm and Will had to grimace a little, but the way his bare ass pressed back against Will’s erection between strokes made it difficult to complain.  
  


“Do you have lube?” Kurt asked breathlessly. “Or something?” Even though pre-come was making the strokes marginally more smooth, the skin-on-skin drag was getting to be a bit much and Will was aware that his calluses from writing and guitar-playing were probably not helping matters.  
  


“Give me a second,” Will said. “And stay there.” He reluctantly let go of Kurt and stepped away, leaving him to stand shakily while he moved to the dresser by the bed, searching through the drawers haphazardly.  
  


He had finally dug out a small bottle when he felt a sharp tug at the hem of his t-shirt. He turned around to see that Kurt had shed his own unbuttoned shirt and was giving him a defiant look as he tugged pointedly again at Will’s hem.  
  


“It’s hardly fair if I’m the only naked one,” Kurt said airily, starting to drag the material up over Will’s torso. Will considered pointing out that he’d specifically asked Kurt to stay where he was, but gave up after seeing the look of concentration on Kurt’s face. Will took over the task, pulling the shirt off himself awkwardly, forced to do it one-handed by the plastic bottle in his hand.  
  


He tossed the shirt to the side and handed the bottle to Kurt, who was eyeing his chest appreciatively. “Open that,” he told him, as he dropped his hands to his pajama pants and lowered them, dropping them down so that they puddled at his feet and he could kick them off. Kurt had popped the lid on the bottle and was pretending to read the label rather than stare at his teacher.  
  


“Is this new?” Kurt asked, not quite managing to sound casual as he examined the bottle.  
  


Will nodded sheepishly and took it from his unresisting hands, squirting a small dollop onto his own palm and setting it down beside the bed before using it to coat the first two fingers on his other hand. “I wasn’t expecting anything, for the record,” he hurried to assure Kurt. Kurt didn’t seem to care, though; he was still pretending not to stare at Will’s naked body and looking at a loss for what to do. Will made the decision for him, closing the distance between them and laying a hand on the small of Kurt’s back, pulling them into contact.  
  


Kurt’s hands landed on his back and gripped at him fiercely, fingers digging into the skin below his shoulders, and Will let his free hand ghost down Kurt’s ass, palm flat against one of his cheeks, fingers stroking between them. Kurt hissed and his muscles twitched under Will’s palm.  
  


“Let me know if I’m going too fast,” Will said sternly, fingers seeking blindly until one grazed Kurt’s entrance.  
  


Kurt shook his head quickly, resting it against Will’s shoulder again, his hair tickling Will’s neck. “This is good,” he gasped as Will’s finger circled his hole, moving to press lightly against the outside without pushing in. He winced. “It’s – the lube is a little cold, though.”  
  


Will chuckled, pressing harder with his finger as Kurt tried to push back onto it. “It’ll warm up,” he murmured, lightening the pressure and receiving an annoyed huff from Kurt in response.  
  


He repeated the movements, applying soft pressure and teasing without letting his finger slip inside, until Kurt hissed and dug his fingers into his back, hard. Will jumped and made a sound that was certainly not a yelp, and when he pulled back to look at Kurt incredulously, Kurt was glaring.  
  


“Are you done yet?” Kurt asked snidely.  
  


Will scowled again and used the hand on Kurt’s back to push him face-first onto the bed. Kurt landed on the mattress with a surprised noise and glared over his shoulder at him, but when Will gave him a light shove, he grumbled but moved to the middle of the bed. Will followed him down, urging him to spread his legs and then kneeling between them.  
  


He laid a hand on Kurt’s lower back again and pressed him into the mattress, trailing his lubed fingers down the groove of Kurt’s ass until they reached where they had just been. Kurt’s breath hitched as Will’s fingertip teased and soon breached him, moving more purposefully than before.  
  


Kurt’s hands were clenched into fists in the sheets, but he relaxed quickly and Will was able to slide his finger inside with little resistance. The hand on his back kept Kurt from squirming against the intrusion, but Will had to apply pressure to keep him from trying to get it deeper as he started pumping it in and out. The second finger joined it with no more than a moment’s tension, and when Kurt started urging him to just get on with it, Will decided he was probably ready.  
  


He let go of Kurt long enough to lean over and retrieve the lube again, squirting more into his hand and generously coating his cock. He had to hiss; Kurt had been right about the temperature, but the stimulation felt heavenly after ignoring it for so long. He couldn’t resist giving himself a few firm strokes, and when he looked back, Kurt had rolled over and propped himself up on his elbows to watch.  
  


“You know, if you were just planning on handling yourself…” Will had to admit, the superiority in that raised eyebrow was impressive for someone sprawled naked across his teacher’s bed.  
  


Will crawled over and hesitated, hovering over Kurt as he stared up at him. There was naked want in Kurt’s eyes and a familiar sharpness, but the frantic look from before was lurking under everything, and it hit him again that maybe this wasn’t the best way of helping his student cope. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Will had to ask, furrowing his brow and tamping down his body’s urging to just hoist Kurt’s legs over his shoulders and start.  
  


Kurt’s eyes narrowed and before Will could fully process what had happened, their positions had been reversed. Kurt’s hands were on his shoulders, pushing him onto his back with surprising strength, and he was looking intently down at him. “I want this, Mr. Schue.” The desperate undertone of _I need this_ was clear, and Will decided that if this was what it took to keep the fear and grief at bay for just a few minutes, he could handle the guilt.  
  


He reached down and held the base of his cock, steadying it as Kurt braced himself against Will’s chest with one hand and reached back to line himself up with the other. Kurt inhaled sharply and Will groaned as Kurt lowered himself down, the head of Will’s cock sinking inside him after a moment of resistance. Kurt breathed for a moment, adjusting to the stretch, then thrust himself down again, taking in a few more inches, then a few more, until he was fully seated on Will’s cock, thighs spread across Will’s lap, head tipped back and eyes closed.  
  


Will made himself hold still – it was tempting to thrust up into the clutching heat, but Kurt was breathing hard and still trying to relax around him. He cautiously sat up enough that he could reach up and rest a soothing hand on Kurt’s cheek as he waited for him to calm down. Kurt blindly turned into the touch, and his breathing eventually slowed, the muscles inside him clenching less tightly. Will rubbed a thumb lightly across his cheekbone, and was rewarded with a sigh and Kurt’s body relaxing further around him.  
  


Kurt’s eyes fluttered open and he gently pulled Will’s hand away from his face, then pushed him back down onto his back. He gave a smile with a trace of his usual smugness when Will complied, and slid his hands from Will’s shoulders to his chest, running them curiously through the curls of hair there for a moment before planting them firmly and using them to leverage himself up, lifting halfway off Will’s cock before slowly sinking back down.  
  


He repeated the motion with excrutiating slowness a few more times before venturing to move faster. Will let him set the pace, biting his lip at the friction and heat. He rested a hand lightly on Kurt’s hip, but didn’t make an attempt to control his motions, which gained speed and became less jerky as he continued to ride Will, slowly building up to a hard and fast rhythm.  
  


Will watched avidly as Kurt’s face changed, his control disappearing as his motions sped up, giving way to frantic need and nothing else. Somewhere along the way, Will had given up on restraining himself, and he was doing his best from his prone position to snap his hips upwards into Kurt each time he sank down, driving small desperate sounds from Kurt’s parted lips.  
  


A certain thrust made Kurt keen and clench down on him, startling him into a helpless groan in turn. He couldn’t resist bringing his free hand to Kurt’s other hip and using them to help drive himself deeper into Kurt with each thrust, trying to recreate the angle from before, and achieving it often enough that Kurt clenched his fingers into fists against Will’s chest and closed his eyes tightly. Will’s hands on his hips were necessary now, as his movements became more frantic and uncontrolled, a stream of “harder, please, harder Mr. Schue, _please_ ” spilling from his lips brokenly, and Will did his best to comply.  
  


Feeling a tingling numbness beginning to spread through his body, Will removed one hand from Kurt’s hip to curl it around his cock. He jerked him off roughly as they moved together, drawing a whine from Kurt’s throat. Although his grip was probably just short of painful and out of sync with their hips slamming together, it was still enough. Kurt gasped, shuddered, and came onto Will’s chest, his eyes open and clear of anything but pleasure.  
  


He collapsed, shivering with the aftershocks, onto Will’s chest, and Will continued to pound into him, thrusting fast and shallow until the spasms of Kurt’s muscles around him tipped him over the edge and he spilled into him after burying himself one last time.  
  


Both of them lay still, panting and recovering, for a moment, before Kurt shifted and grimaced at the feel of drying sweat and come on his skin. Will couldn’t help smiling at Kurt’s expression of disgust, but focused on pulling out carefully as a distraction, making Kurt hiss at the drag against his sensitized skin. Once Will was out, Kurt rolled off him to the side, wincing.  
  


“Are you okay?” Will couldn’t help asking, turning his head to look him in the eye.  
  


Kurt wrinkled his nose and squirmed slightly. “I’m fine, but I need a shower.” He was quiet for a second, and when he spoke again, it sounded like reality had begun to set back in, weighing heavy and unwelcome on his words. “I should go home.”  
  


Will decided to risk it and threw an arm over Kurt before he could get up. “No,” he said firmly, pressing him back down when he tried to sit upright. “You’re staying here tonight. You can go home and get a change of clothes in the morning before school, but it’s too late for you to be driving back alone.”  
  


Kurt looked like he wanted to protest, but the grief and weariness from before was creeping in again, slow and inevitable, and he kept quiet as Will tugged him so that they were both on their sides, Kurt’s back to his chest, and held him close. Kurt initially stiffened against the hold, but then sagged into it once it was clear Will had no intention of letting go and even snuggled closer, although Will suspected he would deny ever having done so. “Are you going to stop pushing everyone away now?” Will asked softly, his breath stirring Kurt’s hair. Kurt took a deep shuddery breath but didn’t respond other than by leaning back into him.  
  


Will decided that the shower could wait a few more minutes.


	3. Duets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will tries to straighten the situation out. For once, sex doesn't happen.
> 
> A/N: Any bi!fail in this chapter is intentional and does not reflect the author's beliefs.

Will hadn’t expected the level of drama that resulted from his duet assignment. Granted, it was New Directions, and this particular group of kids managed to find the opportunity for melodrama in even the most innocuous of situations, but he hadn’t expected to get blowouts and hookups and backstabbing over Italian food. Thankfully, the worst of the upheavals seemed to be over as soon as Will announced the winners, and he was ready for some relative peace.  
 

Will smiled serenely to himself as he watched Kurt and Rachel duet. Their voices sounded good together, and he almost mourned that he couldn’t put them together when he arranged numbers. He couldn’t, though; the judges would be expecting a more… _standard_ duet if they saw a male and female student get on the stage together, and Kurt’s voice definitely wasn’t suited to any arrangements Will had heard. He’d sounded good on his own “duet,” though, even if it made Will reevaluate Kurt’s counting skills for the millionth time.  
 

He still wasn’t sure how Kurt had managed to rope that many Cheerios in, or how there were that many skilled dancers in the school without any interest in Glee. He’d put the matter aside, though; as soon as Puck got himself out of juvie (Will felt like a bit of a failure as a teacher over that, but he supposed that it had been a long time coming), they’d have enough members to compete again. He’d have to work with Rachel and Finn on their performances before Sectionals, though, he decided, if he wanted them to be up to the level he’d thought they were at until _that_ performance happened. Will almost frowned to himself before remembering that Kurt and Rachel could see him, and would probably take it as commentary on their current number.  
 

All too soon, Rachel and Kurt were hitting their final notes, high and clear, and Will applauded with the rest of the club as they broke off, grinning at each other and gripping hands tightly. Will was glad they were finally getting along; Kurt needed all the friends he could get now that he had the stress of his dad’s health to worry about, and it was his opinion that Rachel needed friends, period. The way they were beaming and bumping shoulders as they both accepted the applause as their due made Will chuckle quietly. “Great job, guys!” he said warmly as he got up from his plastic chair and made his way to stand behind them, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. They were both still grinning as they looked up at him, and he squeezed their shoulders again before letting go so he could clap his hands together and inform the rest of the group, “Looks like that’s it for the week, everyone. I’ll see you all next week!”  
 

There was some general milling around as the students gathered their things and left; Sam and Quinn looked very cozy as they leaned in and whispered to each other on their way out, and Tina laughed when Mike pulled her with him as he loped out of the room. Will blinked in surprise at seeing Brittany looking sadly after Artie as he wheeled away, and he wondered what had happened there. He’d known something was up when they dropped out of the competition, true, but he hadn’t realized that Brittany was capable of looking wistful. He chose not to pay attention to Santana and Mercedes walking out together – he’d had to pull Santana off of Mercedes already the previous year and off of Quinn at the start of the current semester, so if Mercedes wanted to revisit that then she was on her own, no matter how good the two of them sounded together. Will pulled himself out of his musings as a glint of silver caught his eye – Kurt had bowed out of the animated (if one-sided) discussion between Rachel and Finn that was now going on, and was halfway to the door.  
 

“Kurt! Hold on,” Will said, holding up a hand to stall Kurt when he turned to look, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Stay back a minute, I’d like to talk to you.” Kurt’s eyebrows rose even higher, but he nodded and gripped the strap of his bag harder, stepping to the side to allow Finn and Rachel through the doorway. Rachel even paused in her monologue for a moment to grin at Kurt and press a quick peck to his cheek. He squawked indignantly and Finn laughed (Will had to bite his lip to not join in). Once Brad had disappeared in his usual inconspicuous way, they were on their own.  
 

Kurt was looking at him with an unreadable expression now. “What did you want to talk to me about?”  
 

Will shrugged. “I mostly wanted to say that I’m glad you’re doing better. You seem a lot… calmer since your dad got out of the hospital.” He tried not to wince visibly – the measure of ‘calmer’ in this case, was admittedly ‘not showing up at your teacher’s apartment in the middle of the night for sex,’ but he was trying not to think about that, even when Kurt did musical numbers about jazz being “hot” that involved him being draped over a succession of men in tuxedos and popping his hips to the music. He still wasn’t thinking about it, though.  
 

Kurt looked at him for a long moment, and Will had a moment of irrational paranoia that Kurt had gained the ability to read minds. He just gave a half-smile, though, and answered, “Thanks. Dad makes the worst convalescent you can imagine, but things are fine now.” He hesitated, the smile weakening, and glanced to the side. “Thank you,” he said again. There were red splotches on his cheeks, and Will realized he was blushing. It took a second longer to realize what the second ‘thank you’ had been for.  
 

Will chuckled awkwardly and automatically glanced toward the door to be sure no one was listening in. They were still alone, though, so he nodded. “You’re welcome – I mean, thank you – I mean, of course I-“ he stopped and faked a cough to get himself out of what was looking like a verbal downward spiral.  
 

Will didn’t regret that one night – Kurt had needed the comfort, and hadn’t accepted any other efforts to give it. It seemed to have helped, too; Kurt had started talking to his friends again the next day, after Will had gotten up before him to make breakfast (and to avoid having the awkward morning-after conversation while still in bed) and watched to make sure he ate more than a few slices of toast. Even if Will didn’t regret it, though, he was still acutely aware that he’d been going against about ten moral codes at once, and he felt that he should at least check in to be sure that Kurt wasn’t harboring any unhappiness about the whole thing.  
 

He sighed and started again. “You _are_ okay, right?”  
 

Kurt’s brows were beginning to furrow, and he tilted his head slightly as he looked hard at Will. “Of course I am,” he said. His voice was perfectly level, no matter how Will strained to read something into it. Will reached out to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. He’d be the first to admit that he didn’t _get_ Kurt, on a very fundamental level, but he hoped he correctly understood that when Kurt closed his eyes and brought up a hand to lay it over Will’s for a second, it was, if nothing else, a sign that he didn’t think he’d been taken advantage of. When he opened his eyes again, Kurt was giving him a little smile. “I’m fine,” he repeated.  
 

Will squeezed his shoulder again, feeling the muscles there tense under his hand – he pushed the sudden memory, muscles shifting under smooth, heated skin without cloth to cover and conceal, out of his mind – and smiled back at him. “I’m glad. You and Rachel sounded great, by the way.”  
 

Kurt’s smile grew and he agreed, “Our voices do sound good together.” He began to pull away from the contact, but suddenly hesitated as if struck by a new thought, glancing sidelong at Will with another indecipherable look. Will couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he was looking guarded and thoughtful and maybe like he was holding his breath or psyching himself up for something big. “I have to ask you something. Are you-“ he broke off and frowned, licking his lips nervously (Will tried not to follow the movement with his eyes, it was _really_ neither the time nor place, and shouldn’t Kurt be letting go of his hand soon?). He took a deep breath and forced out in a rush, “Mr. Schue, are you gay?”  
 

Will blinked. Kurt still wasn’t looking directly at him or letting go of his hand, and Will’s palm was starting to feel a little clammy against whatever the satiny material of his suit was. He opened his mouth wordlessly before he managed to say, very slowly, “No. No, I’m not.” He cleared his throat. “I can… see how it would seem that way, but-“ He didn’t want to lie to Kurt, and he especially didn’t want to build up any false hopes in a student – apparently, he could be turned on by a male body, but Will just couldn’t see himself as gay. How could he be? He’d been married to Terri with no complaint, and then there had been Emma (“had been” was, admittedly, a bit of a lie).  
 

Kurt was thankfully letting out a breath and nodding like he understood. He patted the back of Will’s hand before letting go, allowing Will to pull it back. “I thought so,” he said, finally looking at Will and smiling brightly.  
 

Will frowned. “Kurt, I don’t want you to think that I-“  
 

Kurt shook his head and cut him off, waving a hand airily. “Really, don’t worry about it. I didn’t seriously think you were, I just wanted to get confirmation.” He quirked an eyebrow and shot Will a tiny wry smirk. “Trust me, I never assumed anything.”  
 

Despite Kurt’s reassurance, Will didn’t like the direction the conversation had taken, so he tried again, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward of the headache that threatened. “I still don’t want you to leave here feeling, well, _used_ , or anything like that. What happened was, quite frankly, inappropriate on my part, but I don’t regret it. I hope that you don’t, either.”  
 

“Oh my god,” Kurt groaned. When Will lowered his hand and looked at Kurt again, he was scowling with his arms crossed in front of him. “I’m neither a wilting flower nor Rachel Berry, Mr. Schue,” he said firmly, adding a scandalized “no matter what Rachel thinks” under his breath and, wow, Will wasn’t sure he wanted to know the story behind that. In a more normal tone, he clarified, “I don’t have romantic delusions about anything that’s happened. Quite frankly, it’s almost pleasant that of the thousands of reasons it would never work out, my gender is a minor one. I only asked because, well - let’s just say it’s been a long week.” He caught Will’s sudden doubtful look and hastily added, “Interpersonal glee drama. The usual.”  
 

Will winced sympathetically and nodded. He still wasn’t sure of everything that had happened over the week, but he suspected that there had been more than he’d even guessed about.  
 

“Anyway,” Kurt said, fixing his hair absently, “I should go. I have study hall now, but there’s a history assignment I’m behind on.” He started to walk away, but paused in the doorway. Will had a second of panicked déjà vu, but at least this time, he wasn’t going to be finding bits of Vaseline in inconvenient places for the next four hours. “Thank you,” Kurt said simply, without looking him in the eye, and left.  
 

Will stood in place for a minute before he shook his head and went back to the piano to collect and straighten the sheet music that seemed to perpetually litter its top, much to Brad’s annoyance. It was a relief that Kurt apparently wasn’t infatuated with him or deluding himself about the chances of a romantic entanglement, but Will still wasn’t sure what the proper etiquette for the situation was, even now that they’d straightened things out. He supposed that he would have to just carry on the way he had been doing; he would be the best teacher he could be, and he would focus on reminding Emma that he was still the decent guy she’d fallen for, and he would certainly not think of his student when he was jerking off at home that night – or, if he did, he would console himself that at least it wasn’t as rude as picturing Emma when she was dating another guy.  
 

Will sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Okay, he might be a little screwed.


	4. Rocky Horror Glee Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touch-a Touch Me, the prequel. Santana and Brittany get their voyeur on just as well the first time.

“I still can’t believe you practically volunteered me to be Frank,” Kurt groused, glaring at Will from across the room.  
  


Will sighed and looked to the ceiling as if it held the source for infinite patience. “Are you going to be bringing that up all afternoon?”  
  


Kurt shrugged casually and crossed his legs at the ankle, drumming his fingers on the table he was leaning against. He had thankfully taken off his Riff Raff wig and makeup; Will didn’t know if he could have gone through with this if he hadn’t. “I also don’t know why you didn’t ask Rachel to rehearse this with you,” Kurt observed as he absently brought his hand up to eye level to examine his nails. “You’ll be doing it with her in the actual show now.” The look he shot Will over his still-raised hand was far too arch for Will’s liking.  
  


Will frowned. “She’s in some sort of black student club meeting now and, besides, I don’t want to make things any more awkward for her than they need to be. I trust her to stay professional this time, but…” He grimaced, searching for the proper objection.  
  


“ _But_ , Rachel’s moments of insanity wait for no man, and you know I won’t think we’re in a relationship just because I let you have your gold-mankini’d way with me, I get it,” Kurt completed for him. Will winced – that _really_ wasn’t how he would have phrased it, and this whole thing was starting to look like a very bad idea. Kurt was sighing and lowering his hand, though, apparently having decided that his cuticles were satisfactory, and pushed himself off the table so he could walk up to Will. “Where are we starting from?” he asked.  
  


Will swallowed and decided that he was capable of riding this out (he winced at the mental word choice). All he needed to do was pretend that Kurt was either Emma or a young Susan Sarandon, and not in a fantasy way, and it would be fine. He just needed to get the number down enough that he wouldn’t embarrass himself when he asked Emma to practice it with him, and Kurt was the only person who both had a high enough range to sing along and would also not make it awkward. “From when Janet – you – hears Rocky – me – moan, I think,” he finally answered.   
  


Kurt nodded, then paused and raised an eyebrow to look at Will. “You are aware that you have no lines in this song and your only choreography is to grope Janet, right?” he asked curiously.  
  


Will sputtered. “That’s not – Kurt, that’s hardly the entire scene!” Kurt just shrugged, and Will leveled a stern look at him. It didn’t have the sobering effect Will had hoped for, so he just rubbed at his temple and waved Kurt in the general direction of the boombox with his free hand. “Just start the CD. Artie burned a version that has the dialogue included.”  
  


Kurt still looked amused, but he did as Will directed and walked over to hit the play button while Will took up his position in the space they’d arbitrarily designated ‘the tank.’  
  


\--

  
It was turning out to be a pretty damn good day for Santana. The dweeb she’d bribed to do her homework had tipped her off about a pop quiz, so she’d pulled a Puck and got both herself and Brittany out of English before they had to answer any questions about some old dead dude and his totally homoerotic book – sure, the idea of all those prep school boys splashing around naked and murdering each other and shit _sounded_ cool, but it was majorly boring when she had to read about it.  
  


She was wondering what she should do now that she had study hall; if she was going to be a total loser, she could go to the cafeteria or the library, but she could only take so much time per day with the freaks and geeks, and glee, while maybe secretly sort of okay, still took up most of that time. She sighed and took out her cell phone, wondering if she should bother sexting someone. Puck’s stupid ass was still in juvie, though, and they didn’t even allow conjugal visits (she’d checked), so cell phone privileges were probably out, even for _smoking_ hot sexts. She was considering calling Brittany so they could meet up and celebrate the fact that Brittany was done with Abrams and Santana was done with being mad at Brittany, but the sound of music pulled her out of it. She shrugged and followed the sound for lack of better things to do, toying with the phone as she went and trying to figure out why the tune was familiar.  
  


It hit her around the time she figured out where it was coming from. It was that song from the musical they were doing – the one Finn had freaked out about the first time he saw it performed, because it involved his girlfriend seducing the new guy in what Santana thought was the most hilariously unsexy thing she’d ever had the misfortune to watch. The song was coming from an empty classroom, and, luckily for her, it was one of the rooms with an entire wall of windows. She grinned in anticipation as she snuck towards it, employing all the stealth Coach Sylvester had drilled into the Cheerios. Someone was singing along. If she was lucky, it would be Rachel, either re-enacting the scene with her boyfriend, which would be hilarious, or “rehearsing” with Sam, which would also be hilarious, but even better gossip-fodder. Santana sent a quick text to Brittany, telling her to get her ass over to the ramp outside the C wing if she wanted to watch Rachel trying to be sexy again.  
  


Message sent, she tucked her phone back into her top and tiptoed closer, peering around the edge of the window to see what was going on inside. As soon as she made out who the two people in the room were, she gasped in shock.  
  


“No fucking way,” she breathed.  
  


It was Mr. Schuester and Kurt. Her first thought was pretty much, _what the fuck?_ She knew that Mr. Schue had taken over the role from Sam, but she’d figured he was either joking or having a psychotic break because his hair gel had seeped into his brain, like Coach Sylvester kept saying. But apparently he’d been serious and had chosen the resident gay kid to practice with, rather than Rachel – not that Santana blamed him, _she’d_ rather bang Kurt than Rachel, too, but she hadn’t thought Mr. Schue was interesting enough to be bicurious. And, seriously, Kurt and _Mr. Schue_? She could have believed Kurt fooling around with Finn – hey, they’d shared a room, they easily could’ve done it without anyone ever knowing, and she and Brittany had totally had fun speculating about why they were fighting that one time – but he seemed way too uptight to go for the teacher-student thing.  
  


She edged closer, pressing herself against the wall and peering in as unobtrusively as she could. This was _way_ too good to miss.  
  


Kurt was singing something about “now all I want to know, is how to go…” in a decent, breathy imitation of the boring chick from the movie, but Santana was far more focused on what he was doing than what he was singing. She raised her eyebrows as she watched him throw his arms around Mr. Schue’s neck and lean forward to sing, sitting on the edge of a desk that put him easily at eye level. She couldn’t get a good view of his face from her angle, but when he threw his head back, she could tell that he was getting into it, cheeks flushed, eyes shining and intense, and _damn_ , she sort of got why Brittany was willing to ignore her gaydar completely for that one really weird week. It looked like Mr. Schue was getting into it too, she realized with a growing smirk. His initial look of hesitance and slight horror, probably meant for himself because he was vanilla like that, was being replaced with a way more in-character expression of confused interest as he moved closer, standing between Kurt’s spread knees. She had to bite her knuckle lightly to keep from laughing aloud when Mr. Schue brought his hands up to rest on Kurt’s chest and pretended to grope him – it was in the script, she’d unobtrusively checked while Finn yelled as soon as Sam tried to do it on Rachel – and, judging by the way his back went stiff for a split second and his voice faltered, Kurt was similarly nonplussed. Mr. Schue appeared to drop character long enough to sigh and roll his eyes, and Kurt started up again, singing a bit faster to catch up to the music. Santana snickered.  
  


“I got your text!” Brittany sounded excited, and Santana turned to her with a grin as she kept talking, asking, “Is Rachel dressing like Britney Spears again?” She suddenly frowned, and solemnly added, “If she is, I’ll have to take her down. It was okay the first time, but now that’s totally my thing.”  
  


“Oh, it’s better,” Santana assured her in a low whisper. She put a hand on Brittany’s back and urged her forward to look in the window, as well. “Check it out.”  
  


Brittany gasped and turned to Santana with her mouth hanging open. Santana nodded smugly. They both looked back through the window again.  
  


Kurt had slid off the desk and was standing facing Mr. Schue now, still singing, but his hands were all over Mr. Schue, rubbing his chest and rucking up the fabric, dipping down almost to his waistband before caressing back up to his chest, slipping around to his back so that their bodies were close and pressing together. Mr. Schue, unfortunately, was mostly facing away from them now, but they could at least see that he was pulling them closer together, too, one of his hands still on Kurt’s chest between them, the other…  
  


“Hot,” Brittany breathed, and Santana glanced over to see her watching with wide eyes as Mr. Schue reached behind Kurt, the angle only just allowing them see him flattening a hand over his ass, then gripping it hard, making Kurt almost miss a note. Santana grinned and glanced around, making sure that there was no one else around – this area of the school was always deserted during seventh period – before sliding an arm around Brittany’s waist and toying with the edge of her uniform top. Brittany broke away from watching long enough to look at her in surprise, then grin back at her.  
  


They were both watching again as Mr. Schue lay down on the floor on his back, pulling Kurt down with him. Santana paused her fingers in their dive into Brittany’s skirt so that they could move closer to the window and get a good view what was happening on the floor. Brittany made a pleased humming sound when she saw Mr. Schue with his hands on Kurt’s hips, directing Kurt into riding him despite the layers of clothes between them. Kurt was seated square on his lap with his legs spread on either side and his hands resting on Mr. Schue’s chest, fingers clutching at his vest, and struggling to stay on key as they moved together, Mr. Schue looking up with an expression of intense concentration creasing his face. Santana smiled at the sight, but, becoming impatient, she gave up and disentangled her hand from Brittany’s waistband so she could slide it up under her skirt properly, fingers skimming up her thigh and going directly for the goal. Her smirk grew as her fingers brushed against warm, damp fabric, and Brittany sighed, shifting to plant her feet more firmly.  
  


“You owe me, later,” Santana informed her absently, and although Brittany nodded in response, she seemed a bit distracted. Admittedly, most of Santana’s own thought process was taken up by observing the scene and the sensation of Brittany against her fingers as she rubbed lightly against the fabric, pressing teasingly against her as if she was going to try and sink in despite the cotton barrier, then moving back up to rub circles in a way that made Brittany shiver. A small part of her, though, observed the easy way Kurt rolled his hips down when Mr. Schue rocked up into him, the way Kurt occasionally gasped and missed a note, but didn’t seem surprised by any of it, and she couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, impressed. They had totally done this before.  
  


Brittany whimpered when Santana hooked the fabric aside so that her fingers made contact with heated, slick skin, sliding them easily against her, touching and teasing and tempting with one finger while her thumb lazily brushed up and down over her clit. Santana moved closer to wrap her free arm around Brittany’s waist to support her; the last thing they needed was for Brittany to fall over because Santana was seriously _just that good_ and announce their presence.  
  


It was a good thing she’d given Brittany the support, because she whimpered again (and, okay, Santana might have done it a little, too) when Mr. Schue grabbed Kurt at the end of a verse and forcibly rolled him right over onto his back, leaving his legs waving almost comically in the air until he brought them in around Mr. Schue’s waist. Kurt missed an entire line at that point, but Santana wasn’t especially bothered; his voice had cracked and gone into an impressively masculine groan as the shift no doubt made Mr. Schue grind down on him harder than ever, and she watched as Kurt wrapped his legs around him tighter to bring him as close as possible.   
  


Santana sighed a little in disappointment, though, when she realized that the new angle didn’t leave them the best view. Mr. Schue didn’t wear jeans that were tight enough to show his ass clenching with each thrust, like Kurt’s had, and the way he’d braced himself with his arms on either side of Kurt’s head obscured most of Kurt’s face. The view was decent enough, though, especially with the way Mr. Schue’s shirt pulled tight over his shoulders and upper arms, emphasizing the muscles below. She could also still see that Mr. Schue was getting into it, thrusting hard enough that Kurt’s hands shot out to grab a table leg to brace himself against them. The song had gone on for a verse now without Kurt singing along, so she and Brittany could hear the soft gasps and groans cutting through the music.  
  


As Mr. Schue sped up, pistoning his hips against Kurt faster, his back going rigid and his panting becoming audible, Santana smirked and sped up the motion of her thumb until Brittany was squirming and grinding down on the fingers still teasing her. Santana had never been good at drawing things out, so she gave in and nudged her fingers up and in, sliding them inside with a practiced flex of her wrist. Brittany whined and leaned against her, letting Santana pump her fingers in and out easily as her thumb pressed harder, sliding to one side in a move Santana knew would bring the end around quickly.  
  


Thankfully, the music covered up any of Brittany’s soft noises, and because Santana was freaking amazing at multitasking, she was able to concentrate both on the slick clench of Brittany around her fingers and the way Mr. Schue was leaning down to murmur something to Kurt inside the room. Kurt made a sound of frustration, but his wavering voice picked up, hitching and stumbling over the notes to the chorus. Brittany’s breath was getting shaky, and Santana could feel the tremors starting to run up and down her spine, so she leaned up and kissed at her neck as she continued to thrust her fingers inside and stroke over her clit, not slowing until she felt Brittany give a hard shudder and clench tight around her fingers.  
  


“You good?” she murmured to Brittany, taking her attention off the action in the room in favor of kissing Brittany’s neck a little longer while she eased her fingers out, hesitating for a second before wiping the dampness off onto the inside of Brittany’s underwear.   
  


Brittany didn’t seem to notice, but she leaned closer to Santana’s embrace and nodded with a happy sigh.  
  


Inside, Mr. Schue was saying his first (and only, Santana was pretty sure) line, a rather underwhelming “Creature of the night!” as Kurt’s legs tightened around his waist.  
  


Santana pulled her hand out from under Brittany’s skirt and nuzzled her neck contentedly before turning her full attention back to the room, Brittany a warmly familiar weight against her. “Creature of the night!” Kurt echoed, and Santana decided that the scripted gasp at the end was, in fact, vastly improved when the singer appeared to be having an actual orgasm.  
  


Mr. Schue continued to thrust against his suddenly lax, shivering body for a few more seconds before Kurt squirmed and went abruptly from boneless to full-on bitch mode, bringing up his arms to push at Mr. Schue’s chest until he leaned back. Santana could see that they were both panting, but she had to hold back the urge to cackle at the desperate quality of Mr. Schue’s ragged breathing – she didn’t believe in blue-balling guys unless they really needed to be taught a lesson, but she could recognize the symptoms.   
  


“Okay,” Kurt sniffed in a remarkably composed manner, his voice audible in the sudden silence as the track ended and the CD clicked off. “I sincerely hope you don’t plan on doing that to Miss Pilsbury _or_ Rachel. Getting fired for dry-humping students and coworkers is a terrible addition to your resume, for the record.” Santana smirked and let Brittany pull her down slightly so that they were even further out of sight as they peered over the windowsill.  
  


“That part was a bit… exaggerated from the official choreography,” Mr. Schue admitted as he sat painfully back on his heels. His face was still turned away from the window, but the tension in his back and the strained quality of his voice labeled him as unmistakably on-edge.  
  


Kurt propped himself up on his elbows and sighed. “I would suggest re-working it, then. Either ad-lib or let Mike help you rewrite the scene.” He shifted uncomfortably and wrinkled his nose, his voice sharpening. “And please give me a warning before you start method acting next time. I hope you know how lucky you are I keep a change of clothes in my locker.”  
  


Mr. Schue laughed distractedly, his hand going up to tug at the collar of his shirt. “Got it.” He shifted his weight, and Santana got ready to hit the floor in case he turned around, but he only said, “I should probably – God, this is embarrassing, but you need to move so I can get up. I need to – ah – hit the men’s room.”  
  


Santana snickered in tandem with Brittany. It was too bad that telling everyone about any part of this would get Mr. Schue fired; the fact that their glee director was jacking off in the school restroom like a horny freshman would have been hilarious gossip even without the preceding live-action porn.  
  


Kurt’s eye-roll was practically audible as he sat up and reached forward, his hand disappearing from view as he reached between Mr. Schue’s legs. Santana raised an eyebrow but leaned in to watch, Brittany mirroring the action with a happy whisper of, “His hands are really soft, I wonder if that helps.”  
  


Santana shrugged and watched as Mr. Schue tensed for a second before relaxing, his bent legs sliding slightly apart as he brought his hands to rest on his thighs, clenched into fists. Kurt looked vaguely amused despite the flush suffusing his skin as his wrist flicked – undoing Mr. Schue’s pants, Santana’s unerring sexual intuition told her – before he leaned forward and what she could see of his arm began bending and flexing in a rhythmic way. A few strokes in, and Mr. Schue’s fists were tightening hard and his chin dropped to his chest, shivers trembling through him hard enough to be visible from Santana and Brittany’s hiding place. It looked like Kurt continued to stroke him through it until the trembling stopped and Mr. Schue laid a hand on his arm.   
  


“Hot,” Brittany murmured a little too loudly, before she and Santana had to duck out of sight as the sound apparently attracted attention.  
  


“Did you hear something?” Kurt was asking.  
  


“What?” Mr. Schue said, his voice appealingly husky – hey, Santana figured, he might have been their teacher, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate a good sex-voice. Or a free show. Really, it was totally their own fault for doing it in a room with windows, not that she expected even halfway decent discretion from either of them.  
  


Kurt sighed, and Santana smirked back at the grin Brittany sent her as they both continued to keep low, out of sight. “Never mind. Would you get me a tissue? I am not walking to my locker with this on my hand.”  
  


“Oh.” Mr. Schue sounded suddenly awkward. “Sorry, I’ll just-“ there was a pause, and Santana felt secure enough to peer over the edge of the windowsill again. Mr. Schue had stood up and done his pants back up at some point, and was offering a Kleenex box to Kurt. As Kurt snatched a handful of tissues and began to wipe his hand off, Mr. Schue bit his lip and said, “I didn’t push you, did I? Sorry, I honestly didn’t expect things to go as… far as they did.”  
  


Kurt tossed the wadded tissues into a nearby trashcan and stood up, brushing gingerly at his back as if to dislodge the floor’s filth. He raised an eyebrow at Mr. Schue. “Just so you know, the ‘it just happened’ excuse becomes infinitely less convincing after the second time. That said…” he sighed. “Believe me, Mr. Schue, if I’m not interested in something, I will tell you. Promptly.”  
  


He was turning toward the window again, so Santana ducked out of sight. She jerked her head in the direction of the door to Brittany, and they both crept away, staying low until they were out of view of the room. The interesting part was over, anyway.  
  


As she swung the door to the main building over, Brittany’s eyes were shining. “I had no idea Mr. Schue was gay. Do you think they’ll let us watch for real next time?”  
  


Santana had admittedly considered the idea, but dismissed it almost immediately. She’d learned way back in freshman year that blackmailing people you shared an activity with always turned out to be unnecessarily complicated.  “No,” she said, not bothering to hide her annoyance at the lost opportunity. “It would suck if they said no. Remember what Coach said about blackmail.”  
  


Brittany furrowed her brow. “’Brittany, if you tell anyone about that tape of Noah Puckerman and I, I’ll tell that carrot-top freak all about the _other_ bird?’” she recited.  
  


“What? No. What?” Santana shook herself and recovered, sticking to the point. “No, I mean, ‘don’t try to blackmail someone if you can’t be assed to carry it out.’ And it would kind of blow if Mr. Schue got fired, so, yeah, not worth it.” She sneered and added, “And, anyway, he’s so not gay. His ridiculous fake affair with Miss Pillsbury proves that. Bi, at most.” God, she realized, it was going to be hard to not smirk every time Coach Sylvester made fun of him for that from now on.  
  


When she looked over, though, Brittany was frowning, so she rolled her eyes and impatiently sighed, “If we pretend to be them later, will you stop sulking, already? Cheer up, you already got a free show and an orgasm out of it.”  
  


Brittany looked slightly more cheerful at the prospect. “Can I be Mr. Schue?”  
  


Santana shrugged and linked pinkies with her as they strode together down the empty hallway. “Sure, you already have the curly wig from that jazz dance. You’ll have to find me a scarf, though. And maybe some helium.”  
  


They both laughed, and Santana decided that it really was a good day. And that she and Brittany were totally camping outside that window for the next week.


	5. Never Been Kissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's more going on than Will knows, but he's still willing to help. He did it for Coach Beiste, after all.

Will was chopping carrots when the doorbell rang, so when the chime cut through the air, he nearly brought the knife down on his hand in surprise. He stopped himself from cursing and shook his head at himself, laying the knife down and wiping his hands on the nearest dishtowel before going to the door to peer out the peephole.  
  


Kurt was standing on his doorstep, looking distracted, and Will had a sudden flashback to a similar situation weeks earlier, wincing as he tried to decide whether he should be pleased or horrified that the incident looked like it might be about to repeat itself. He braced himself and swung the door open, admitting a gust of cool fall air.  
  


“I’m sorry about just showing up like this,” Kurt said unconvincingly. Will sighed and stepped aside, allowing him to come in. He studied Kurt with a frown as he toed off his shoes and carefully deposited his leather satchel alongside them. Kurt didn’t look as distraught as he had when his father was in he hospital, but the odd dullness that had hung around him for perhaps weeks now was even more pronounced than usual, despite the cheerful canary-colored sweater. Will frowned; Kurt had been doing fine during the boys’ mash-up that afternoon and he’d allowed himself to hope that whatever was going on had stopped, or at least Kurt had learned to take it in stride again. But Kurt had his arms crossed tightly as he turned to face Will again, his fingers digging furrows into the knit of his sleeves despite the way he lifted his chin high and proud. “I’d like to ask a favor.”  
  


Will tried to keep his expression neutral. He shrugged and tucked his hands into his pockets so that he wouldn’t be tempted to reach for Kurt and end the tension by just getting to the point. “And what favor would that be?”  
  


Kurt stayed put, eyes sliding toward the door as if he was considering bolting. Before Will could prompt him again, his grip on his opposite biceps tightened visibly and he looked Will directly in the eye. “I want you to kiss me,” he said.  
  


Will realized that he was gaping, so he snapped his mouth closed and took a hand out of his pocket so that he could run it over his face, trying to clear his mind with the extra seconds the movement bought. “Oh,” he said intelligently, chancing a look at Kurt, who was starting to flush. “Um,” he added. He tried to think rationally about the situation. Given what had already happened – repeatedly – there was no logical reason for him to deny the request. But still, it was an odd one for Kurt to make now, and Will had to wonder again if he was misreading the signs. With whatever had been going on lately, was Kurt starting to latch on to him in a way that could become problematic? “Why?” he finally settled on asking. There had to be a line somewhere, after all, he firmly reminded himself.  
  


Kurt was still flushing, but he’d turned his head and was no longer looking Will in the eye; instead, he locked his gaze intently on a small painting on the far wall. “Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Schue, I’m still not harboring romantic delusions.” Some of Will’s wariness abated and he could feel the wrinkles smoothing out of his forehead. “It’s just that I’ve had my first – I’ve been kissed before.” Something about the way Kurt forced the words out made Will frown, but he listened as Kurt carefully continued, “It may not seem so important to you, but it was never – there weren’t any that were very good.”   
  


Will could feel his forehead furrowing again as he looked at Kurt, who was still staring at the wall with great determination. “Alright,” he said slowly, “that was with Brittany, though, wasn’t it?” Even months later, he was trying to repress that memory in light of how deeply strange it had been, but he suspected he had a responsibility as a teacher to point out the obvious to Kurt and help him reason it through before he gave in to the request. “She wasn’t exactly your… type. You can’t expect it to be good if you aren’t attracted to the person you’re with.” He thought for a moment about why this was coming up now, rather than the previous year. “Unless there was someone else?”  
  


“No, just Brittany,” Kurt said quickly.  
  


Will gestured helplessly with his free hand before letting it drop to his side. “I mean, you don’t have to count it, then, if you don’t want to. You could label it as experimentation and still be free to get a better first kiss story later.” He forced a smile (and, hell if he didn’t feel awkward and vaguely guilty discussing Kurt getting a first kiss, given the circumstances).  
  


“No,” Kurt sighed. His shoulders were hunched, and there was a flash of something dark in his expression. “It counts.” Will had assumed that sleeping with someone would make them easier to read, but apparently that wasn’t the case. The fleeting look was gone as quickly as it came, though, and when Kurt’s shoulders abruptly straightened and he turned his head to look Will in the eye, the mulish stubbornness there was clear, as was the desperation hiding under it. “I just want to know that it can be good.”  
  


Will sighed and shifted awkwardly on the balls of his feet. He couldn’t refuse now without feeling cruel, he realized. And, as before, Kurt had been turning down any other kind of help Will could give. Even if it was arguably more… romantic than most of what had happened so far, it wasn’t so different from what he’d done for Shannon the previous day, was it? “Alright,” he finally said. His cautious glance showed Kurt closing his eyes and breathing out in relief, nothing more. Will smiled and laid a hand on Kurt’s shoulder, gently urging him to start walking further into the apartment. “Could you go wait in the living room for a second? I was in the middle of something when you came, I need to clean up a bit.”  
  


Kurt raised an eyebrow but went, navigating the apartment easily. Will watched him turn the corner and wondered absently if maybe he shouldn’t allow his students to come over so often.  
  


Will let himself mull over the situation while he cleared away the food he’d been preparing and washed his hands, remembering Kurt’s behavior in his office and Shannon’s words in the locker room. By the time he was done, he felt far more secure about the whole thing. “Sorry about that, I had to clear some things away,” he called as he made his way across the short distance between kitchen and living room, twitching his rolled-up cardigan sleeves back down as he went.  
  


Kurt looked up, undisturbed, from where he’d taken a seat on the couch. He gave a dismissive shrug in response and looked at Will for a second longer before glancing down pointedly at the empty spot next to him. Will resisted the urge to laugh and sat down instead. He had already decided that straightforward would be the best approach, so, without waiting to settle into place, he immediately laid a hand on Kurt’s shoulder blade and used the other to gently tilt Kurt’s chin up as he leaned in and closed the distance between their mouths.  
  


Kurt went still and frozen against him, and Will had a moment of panic where he wondered if he had gone too fast after all, or if he had messed up and permanently traumatized a student somehow – it was bad enough he’d already seen one almost sent back to juvie this week, he didn’t need another thing on his conscience. But after a second, Kurt relaxed, the tension melting out of his shoulders under Will’s hand, his lips softening against Will’s.  
  


Will held the chaste kiss for a moment longer before pulling back and smiling. “So, was it good, after all?”  
  


Kurt opened his eyes and blinked. “That was… nice,” he said, sounding almost surprised.  
  


Will laughed and removed the hand that had been under his chin, using the one on his shoulder to give a fond squeeze. Kurt winced, the soft confusion from earlier disappearing. Will grimaced in sympathy. “Sorry about that, I didn’t think I squeezed so hard. Are you alright?”  
  


“No, I’m fine. I’m just sore from an accident this morning,” Kurt quickly answered.  
  


Will frowned, but left it at that. He gave Kurt’s shoulder a far more careful pat, then removed his hand and leaned back against the couch cushions. Kurt was staring at the coffee table now, his gaze unfocused and his lips pressed together tightly as if lost in thought. The silence was suddenly oddly tense. “So,” Will started, for lack of other options. “Good job with the mash-up, I was impressed with you guys.” He laughed awkwardly. “I don’t think I’ll ever get the image of Artie emphasizing he’s ‘not a prostitute’ out of my head, though.”  
  


Kurt snorted and some of his stiffness faded as he seemed to come back to himself. “Between him and Sam and Finn’s bizarre extended analogies, I’m impressed that Coach Beiste still went for the group hug. Especially considering what, exactly, they did.”  
  


Will groaned, as much in shared embarrassment as in sympathy for Shannon, and slumped back, bringing up a hand to rub at his temples. “God, don’t remind me,” he said, glad for a subject to discuss, unpleasant as it was. “I still can’t believe they would do that.”  
  


When he glanced to the side, he saw that Kurt was shooting him a vaguely pitying look, the corner of his lips twitching. “You really don’t see a lot of the things students get up to, do you, Mr. Schue?” he asked when he saw Will looking.  
  


Will was stung by the implications (which, knowing Kurt, were probably purposeful), but he manfully held back the urge to defend himself. He still remembered Kurt’s moodiness when they’d talked earlier in the week and there was a too-familiar dullness underlying the condescension. Calling Kurt on the superiority he tended to retreat behind wouldn’t help. He ignored the subject change, instead, and sighed, “Why would they even come up with that? I mean, that was inappropriate on so many levels, not to mention outright hurtful…”  
  


“I suspect they weren’t thinking,” Kurt shrugged. Without Will noticing, the tension had crept back and Kurt was sitting straight-backed, hands clasped tightly over a crossed knee. “When do they ever? Most of the boys at this school just let themselves be led around by their hormones, and regardless of who gets hurt in the process, they’ll just-“  
  


Will looked over in surprise at the sudden heat in Kurt’s voice before he had cut himself abruptly off, but Kurt was staring down at his hands fixedly, lips pressed together in a thin line. “Kurt,” he said cautiously, “are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?”  
  


Kurt shook his head and looked up at Will. “No, I’m fine.” He hesitated for a second, then quickly added, “It’s just – all of them talking about making out, you know? As if it’s no big thing, and they can just take it for granted.” A weak smile flitted across his face.  
  


“Oh.” Will thought it over for a second. “I guess I can see how that would put you on edge.” He put a bracing hand on Kurt’s shoulder again, careful to avoid the spot that had made him wince earlier. “You’ll find someone, though. High school can be hell for romance, but you just have to tough it out in the meantime and try to not let it get you down, okay?”  
  


There was a slow smile slipping across Kurt’s face, and Will stared for a second before Kurt looked down and bit at his lips to get it under control. “No,” he said, looking up again when he apparently had gotten his expression under control, “You’re right. I think that I actually might, someday.”   
  


Will had a second of reborn wariness until he realized that the look, which he hadn’t seen since Kurt’s painfully obvious crush on Finn, hadn’t been directed at him, and he grinned back at Kurt.  
  


Suddenly, Kurt’s eyes went wide, as if he were having a particularly unpleasant epiphany. “Oh my god,” he said blankly. “I’m going to be terrible. I’m going to sabotage my first actual chance. He’s going to want to make out eventually and I’m not going to have any idea what I’m doing and I’ll accidentally bite his nose off or something.”  
  


Will blinked at the abrupt shift and reminded himself that it was a _good_ thing that Kurt felt safe enough around him to engage in melodrama again. “Well,” he ventured, casting about for something that would help, “you’ve made out with Brittany, right? She still appears to be in full possession of a nose, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about on that front.” He tried to smile encouragingly.  
  


Kurt groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “You don’t understand, Mr. Schue,” he said, sounding muffled. “She said I did a good job, but this is _Brittany_. She gets turned on by the taste of her own armpits.” Will tried very hard not to react to that beyond nodding. “What if she taught me in a way that no one else will find – attractive? He’s going to think I’m a freak.”  
  


“I’m sure he won’t think you’re a freak,” Will assured him automatically. Kurt didn’t look comforted, so he sighed and glanced upward, wondering vaguely if people who weren’t Catholic could apologize for sinning, preferably in advance.  Really, though, this was becoming habitual enough that he’d been expecting it from the start. “Would you like me to make out with you so I can tell you if there’s something strange?”  
  


Kurt lifted his head from his hands and gave him a thoughtful look. Will didn’t think that Kurt was good enough at manipulation to have planned this out, but he took some comfort anyway in the fact that it took him a moment to come to a decision. “That might be helpful,” he eventually conceded.  
  


Will swallowed and started to lean in, but Kurt’s hand was on his chest, stopping him. He froze, looking at him in confusion. “Kurt, what-“ Kurt held up a finger to pause. Will threw his hands up and leaned back, shaking his head.  
  


“Hold on,” Kurt said firmly, starting to unbutton his sweater.  
  


Will blinked as more and more of Kurt’s shirt was revealed. “Ah,” he said carefully. “You… do know that you don’t _necessarily_ have to take your clothes off to just make out, right?”  
  


The look Kurt shot him was nothing short of withering. “And you don’t necessarily have to take them off to do _more_ than make out, but you still nearly ruined the back of my Burberry Prorsum sweater last month.” It took Will a second to place the reference, but when he did, he sighed and covered his eyes for a moment. When he uncovered them again, Kurt had shrugged off his sweater and laid it over the coffee table, and was now giving him an expectant look. “Your cardigan is pilling,” he said briskly. “You should take it off before it gets worse or sheds on my shirt.”  
  


Will stared at him for a second longer and considered calling it off. Kurt’s attitude had been all over the place lately, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to encourage the bossiness Finn had mentioned in passing during their conversation about the Shannon issue. On the other hand, he had already come this far. He sighed and unbuttoned the cardigan, tossing it over Kurt’s sweater when it was off. Kurt smiled, a hint of stiffness belying the brash way he leaned forward into Will’s personal space before he hesitated and looked up at Will, waiting. Will took in a bracing breath, then reached out again, brushing his fingers under Kurt’s chin to make him tilt his face toward him.   
  


The angle made it easy for Will to press his lips against Kurt’s swiftly before pulling away to check that Kurt wasn’t panicking. Seeing that Kurt’s eyes had fluttered shut and there was no sign of displeasure other than a shaky nervous sigh, he smiled and moved back in. He started with short, careful kisses, which grew firmer and more deliberate as he felt Kurt starting to respond, moving his lips clumsily against Will’s.  
  


Will found his hand curving around to cup Kurt’s jaw, fingers brushing into his hairline, thumb resting lightly on his cheekbone. He couldn’t help comparing it to other times and cataloguing that it was – different, in some ways. Kurt’s skin was soft and he smelled like hair product and some clean, subdued scent, but there was a barely-there roughness along his jaw – stubble? – and his bone structure, while smooth and almost feminine at first glance, felt very different under his hand from any of the girls and women Will had kissed in the past. Kurt whimpered quietly into his mouth at an exploratory flick of Will’s tongue against his lips, and Will surged forward, kissing him harder to distract himself from his thoughts, submerging them in the familiar, reckless feel of it.  
  


Suddenly, Kurt stiffened and his hands were pushing at Will’s shoulders. Will leaned back immediately and looked at him in alarm. “Hold on,” Kurt murmured. Will furrowed his brow and nodded, surveying Kurt with concern; he was breathing harder than before and his eyes were wide-open, flicking across Will’s face as if searching for something. Will was trying to think of what he should say when Kurt sighed and visibly relaxed. “Alright,” Kurt said firmly, as if to himself, and Will didn’t have time to think about it before Kurt was leaning forward and kissing him again, determination lacing every movement of his lips against Will’s. Will went along with it, allowing Kurt to set the pace and lean in to him, eyes drifting closed.  
  


At some point, Will realized a minute or two later, Kurt’s arms had crept around his neck and Will had moved forward until he was leaning over Kurt, easing him back onto the couch. Kurt made an indistinct content noise into Will’s mouth when his weight was resting almost completely on Kurt, pressing him into the cushions. It was an easy pattern to fall into and almost comforting; a warm body beneath him, smooth skin under his lips as he kissed his way from mouth to neck, high breathy noises vibrating in the throat he was kissing. As he slowly lost himself in the sensation, he almost expected the upholstery under them to shift to the cracked leather of the Blue Bomber’s backseat or the worn corduroy of the couch in his parents’ home.   
  


Kurt’s hands had found their way onto the back of his neck, and one almost drifted up to curl into his hair before Kurt seemed to remember himself and snatched it away. It fuzzily registered in Will’s mind, as Kurt sighed and tipped his head back to expose his throat to Will’s methodical exploration, that he had somehow settled between Kurt’s thighs and if he were to shift his weight just a little bit -   
  


It seemed like a good idea, so he gave in and twitched his hips over a fraction, groaning as the movement aligned the erection he hadn’t realized was growing with the hard line straining against Kurt’s pants. Kurt shifted under him, spreading his thighs wider, one of his legs slipping off the couch, and letting Will press closer. It hadn’t been a sensation Will had ever thought about enjoying, but the friction and resistance were almost dizzying. Will tried not to make a sound as he mouthed his way back up the side of Kurt’s neck, making him shiver, and ground his hips down heavily. Kurt was breathing hard and trying to arch up against him, but Will let his own weight keep him pressed down against the couch, knowing from past experience that Kurt was sturdy enough to deal with it. Kurt’s breath hitched at the sudden pressure and Will almost backed off at the momentary tension in his body, but Kurt released it all with a soft sigh as one of his hands finally did slide into Will’s hair, gently weaving through the curls, fingers rubbing absently at his scalp.  
  


“I thought,” Kurt managed after a few minutes, breaking into Will’s thoughts and keeping his voice nearly level even as Will thrust hard against him, grinding their cocks together through the layers of fabric, “that you were going to tell me if I was any good.” Will lifted his head, blinking, to look at him from where he’d been mouthing wetly at Kurt’s jaw, Kurt’s hand still resting lightly on the back of his head. Despite the unusually mussed state of his own hair and the way he was breathing hard, even when Will stopped moving, Kurt raised a superior eyebrow. “At making out?” he clarified.  
  


Will shook himself internally and tried not to think about the thousands of other times he’d gotten a similar exasperated eyebrow-arch from someone else in the past. Even with all the talk of romance and partners flying around in the past week, he’d been doing so _well_. He sighed and tried to remember that it wasn’t as if Kurt was doing it on purpose, even if it did have the effect of a bucket of ice water on his libido. So when Kurt boldly slipped a hand down to his cheek and used it to pull him down, Will went with it and let him kiss him, trying to regain the strange nostalgic drift of before.  
  


Kurt was a little too slow when he kissed at first, but Will was patient and let him set the pace once more, allowing the inexperience to bring back half-faded memories that made him smile fondly. After a few minutes of clumsy kisses, Will pressed a harder kiss against Kurt’s mouth and started grinding down on him again, more leisurely now. Kurt immediately pushed back, nipping lightly at Will’s bottom lip before running his tongue over the spot as he tried to match the movements of Will’s hips, rolling up to meet him. Will hummed approvingly at the hand that slipped from the side of his face to his upper back, pulling him closer. He took control of the kiss after a few more moments, trying to direct Kurt into using less teeth – apart from the lack of coordination, it was the worst of Kurt’s inexperience, but Kurt’s later partners would thank him (or, well, hopefully, they wouldn’t know to).   
  


When Will ground down on him particularly hard, Kurt gasped and Will groaned, feeling the heat winding through him and beginning to settle as a familiar tremor down his spine. Kurt nearly whined, and Will could feel him bucking up to meet his thrusts with a new desperation, so he sped up, the friction against his cock almost painful through his jeans. It didn’t seem worth stopping, though, especially when Kurt was arching up under him and accidentally biting Will’s lip hard enough to hurt, then muttering a hitched, breathless apology that pulled Will back to early fumbling so many years ago, and _God_ he was so close – but then Kurt’s eyes widened and he was gasping in a way that was more urgent than arouse, his hands pushing insistently at Will’s shoulders to force him up to hover just above Kurt.  
  


“Kurt?” Will asked in alarm, his brows furrowing despite the desperate on-the-brink feeling coursing through him. “What’s wrong?”  
  


Kurt shook his head and kept his hands on Will’s shoulders, holding him at a distance. “I don’t have a change of clothes this time,” he sighed shakily, shutting his eyes tight. “I can’t-“ he broke off, the flush on his cheeks deepening.  
  


Will’s automatic reaction, after incoherent horror at being stopped when he was _so close_ , was to offer to lend him a pair. Unfortunately, the pause forced his brain to actually resume functioning and he realized what it would (accurately) look like if his student went home wearing a pair of Will’s pants. He groaned in inchoate frustration and settled his weight so that it wasn’t resting between Kurt’s legs. The loss of pressure and heat was almost maddening. “You could just take them off,” he suggested, trying to sound helpful, rather than frantic.  
  


Kurt opened his eyes and shook his head again, looking pained. “Trust me, I wish I could. This isn’t any more pleasant for me than it is for you, but I need to be home soon. My dad probably won’t notice if my clothes aren’t exactly pristine, but I really don’t want to risk it. Do you mind if we just – cool down for a minute?”  
  


“No, that’s fine, of course,” Will said automatically, telling himself firmly that he needed to be responsible and not throw the tantrum his inner teenager demanded. He stopped, though, and gave Kurt a hard look as the last part of the sentence processed fully. The memory of the last time he’d heard that was useful for cooling his libido, at least.  
  


Kurt blinked up at him for a moment before realization struck him and he rolled his eyes, huffing, “I didn’t mean it like that. Please, if I were going to imagine someone I find sexually repulsive, I have no end of options whose feelings I’m not interested in sparing.”  
  


Will sighed and shifted so that his arms were braced on either side of Kurt to bear his weight. He didn’t relinquish his position over Kurt for the moment, though; he was warm and comfortable apart from his neglected arousal, and the week had been stressful enough that he was going to take any kind of relaxation he could get, even if the temptation to just let his weight slip down and finish getting off was almost overwhelming. Kurt was taking measured, calming breaths as he stared up at the ceiling, though, and Will waited as patiently as he could for his own body to shed its heat and return to normal.  
  


He closed his eyes for a few moments, and when he opened them again, Kurt’s flush had faded and his gaze was more focused as he dropped one of the hands on Will’s shoulders to his side, leaving the other one where it was. Will raised an eyebrow at him.  
  


“Oh, it’s nothing,” Kurt shrugged. “Just – You and your button-up/jean combinations,” he smiled vaguely, skimming his fingers over the shirt’s material.  
  


Will frowned, stung and feeling the last of his arousal fade completely, slipping back into the world where he was a mature adult, rather than… whatever he’d been drifting as. “It’s professional and less stuffy than slacks, Kurt,” he automatically defended himself. “I don’t see what the problem is.”  
  


Kurt’s lips were quirking higher at the corners and his fingers had migrated absently to the bottom of the shirt, which he began to tug at as he explained, “It’s that you wear them all the time. Don’t get me wrong, it’s preferable to a lot of what you could be doing, but the frequency just makes it look like you’re in a fashion rut.”  
  


Will rolled his eyes and shifted his weight to relieve the tingling that had started in one of his arms. “Do you usually critique your teachers’ wardrobes like this?”  
  


“Yes,” Kurt admitted, utterly unashamed. “Not usually to their faces, no, but Mercedes and I had a few very enjoyable bonding sessions over your vest collection last year.” Will stared down at him, nonplussed. Kurt shrugged again, as much as he could from his position. “You were cycling through them too quickly. You wore the knit ribbed one six times in one month. Thankfully, you learned to pace yourself after that.”  
  


Will gaped for a second longer, then pulled it together enough to sigh, “And you’re complaining now, why?”  
  


There was a rush of cool air as Kurt finally succeeded in untucking his shirt from his jeans and made a little pleased sound. Will’s eyebrows shot up and he rested all his weight on one bent arm so that he could reach down and catch one of Kurt’s wrists with the other. He tried to make it clear through his stern look that he’d thought they were trying to cool down. Kurt rolled his eyes but didn’t try to pull out of his grip, his free hand continuing to play with the crumpled hem. “I’m complaining now because I just realized that the pattern on this one might sear my eyes without the cardigan to cover it. Before, it looked vaguely youthful. Now, you just look like a lumberjack.”

  
Will scowled and squeezed at his wrist a little harder. Kurt failed to look apologetic. “Hey,” he said sternly, trying to get across that Kurt was being rude again without having to say it. Really, he didn’t think he should have even imply it, but knowing Kurt, he was just thankful it hadn’t been worse – he was tempted to think that if Kurt hadn’t stopped them there would have been less of an issue, but Will had seen post-orgasmic Kurt and he regretfully had to conclude that it wouldn’t have helped. “You were the one who asked me to take the cardigan off,” Will reminded him.   
  


Kurt looked unapologetically amused. It abruptly struck Will that this was the most cheerful he’d seen him outside of glee in weeks, so he sighed and let the issue drop. He’d have a talk with Kurt about acceptable manners on a week when he seemed less likely to have a nervous breakdown. On the plus side, he thought with resigned optimism, the exchange had killed his erection quite effectively. “Do you think you’re ready to go?” he asked, pushing himself up so that he could sit back.  
  


Kurt laid still for a moment longer before nodding and sitting up, as well. His hands immediately flew up to the back of his head and Will had to bite his lip at the way Kurt’s eyes widened in horror and he compulsively began patting it back into place. Will half expected him to ask for a mirror or hairspray. Once he was reasonably satisfied, Kurt sighed and swung his legs gingerly around so that his feet were planted on the floor again. “Yes, I think I’m fine,” he said.  
  


“I’ll walk you to the door, then,” Will offered, getting off the couch and waiting for Kurt to collect his sweater before leading him back to the entryway. He had to wait a little longer as Kurt refastened the sweater and slipped back into his shoes, but then Kurt was facing him again and hesitating for a second before pressing a quick kiss against his unresisting lips.  
  


“Thank you,” Kurt said awkwardly.  
  


“No, of course,” Will shrugged. Looking at the bitten-redness of Kurt’s lips and remembering the feel of them, Will felt a surge of quiet guilt. It wasn’t just that making out on the couch had made him feel oddly like a teenager (which was the absolute last train of thought he needed to be having while engaging in morally questionable activities with a student). It was also that he didn’t want to set Kurt up for any confusion in the future – like Shannon had said, kissing was the simplest thing in the world, sometimes, but Kurt needed to learn to find intimacy with someone he could actually be with, and maybe Will did, as well. He eyed Kurt for a moment longer before sighing and saying, “Honestly, we probably shouldn’t do that part again. The… extended kissing, I mean.”   
  


Kurt looked at him thoughtfully, his eyebrows raised in mild surprise. “I see.” He tilted his head to the side and a playful look slipped over his features, obscuring a flash of something that Will couldn’t identify. “So,” he smirked, completely ignoring Will’s internal torment, “that good, or that bad?”  
  


“Goodbye, Kurt,” Will said pointedly, trying not to smile.  
  


Kurt hesitated before turning to go. “I meant it, though,” he said quietly. His hands were locked tight around his bag’s strap, and there was a strange relief in his eyes as he met Will’s gaze. “Thank you.”  
  


Will furrowed his brow and considered reminding Kurt that he could tell Will anything, if he needed to, but Kurt was sweeping out the door before he could say anything. Will sighed and closed the door behind him, his mind already drifting back to preparing dinner.


	6. The Substitute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's back at McKinley and the week from Hell is over, but there are still some things to straighten out.
> 
> PSA: Fellatio is not actually a no-risk activity, but McKinley's sex ed program could be charitably said to leave a lot of gaps.

Will found himself laughing aloud as the students ran past him, ducking to avoid being clotheslined by Finn’s swinging umbrella. Mercedes shrieked from somewhere behind him, laughter in her voice as she called, “Okay, you better not think I’m letting you get away with that!”  
  


Will met Holly’s eyes over Santana and Brittany’s heads as they practically skipped after Artie, his wheels throwing up twin sprays of water, and he grinned at her. She beamed back, hefting her umbrella over her shoulder and strutting in an exaggeratedly theatrical manner. He laughed again, then turned back in surprise as another shriek came from the flooded stage behind them.  
  


Mercedes was practically cackling as she stood over a rather sodden Kurt, glowering up at her playfully from where he had fallen on his ass. “Told you,” she gasped between laughs. Kurt stuck his tongue out at her.  
  


Will smiled but shook his head and called back to them, “Time to get moving, guys. I had to call in about a million favors with the custodians, so we need to be out of here in under two minutes or they’ll wax the choir room floor again.”  
  


“Well, aren’t you well-connected,” Holly said, raising her eyebrows. She had paused, and waited with him for Mercedes to help Kurt to his feet before starting to meander toward the exit again. “If I ever need a hookup at this school, I’ll know who to go to.”  
  


Will purposefully let the wording go without comment. He would normally have followed up on their flirting, especially after the incident with Terri, but Kurt arched an eyebrow at him and smirked as he and Mercedes passed between Will and Holly, and Will wasn’t about to give him any ammunition for teasing.  
  


Instead, Will just shrugged modestly in response and they walked out in companionable silence, leaving wet footprints behind them once they were off the flooded stage. Kurt and Mercedes’ shoes were squeaking on the tile up ahead and their rapid back-and-forth made Will smile broadly. It was good to be back.  
  


“I think this is the part where I say ‘thank you for a lovely time’ and find a place to get out of these clothes,” Holly said once they had reached the door to the choir room. The chatter of voices from inside indicated that most of the club was finding their school clothes, and a surprised squeal, thud, and burst of laughter suggested that the now-wet tile had claimed a victim.  
  


“I’m glad you could join us, I had a lovely time too.” Will paused with his hand on the doorknob and winced as he remembered something, leaning in conspiratorially to inform Holly, “Fair warning, don’t be surprised if a couple of the guys haven’t waited to start changing. We haven’t been able to break Puck of it yet and Mike’s gotten worse since Tina started encouraging him.”  
  


Holly grinned and raised an eyebrow. “I’ll consider myself warned, then. And don’t worry, I’m not looking.” She started to move toward the door, then stopped thoughtfully. “Even if Puck did suggest that I give him detention that one time.”  
  


Will sighed and rubbed at his dampened temple with his free hand. “He would,” he acknowledged faux-mournfully as he swung the door open, holding it for Holly. He was faintly proud of himself for not reacting to the word ‘detention’ in that context.  
  


And then, because the universe hated him lately, Kurt swept out of the room, squeezing between Will and Holly. “Mr. Schue?” Kurt said, pausing once he was clear of them. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”  
  


Holly hadn’t glanced back as she entered the room and Will could hear her happily calling something to one of the kids inside, but he still took care to keep his voice and expression level when he responded, “Of course. Just let me grab my things.”  
  


The exhilaration from the performance was still pumping through him as he navigated the chaos in the choir room to retrieve his dry clothes from where he’d stashed them, carefully looking them over to be sure that Sue hadn’t snuck in and sabotaged them somehow, but a tingle of nerves and anticipation began to escalate through him – he wasn’t positive what Kurt wanted to meet about, but there was a limited range of possibilities, and the look Kurt had given him wasn’t one of a student asking for help with academics. And with the whole club and Holly still in the building? God, the _risk_ …  
  


Kurt was still waiting for him outside the door, arms crossed against his chest and eyes scanning the hallway nervously. When he saw Will, he relaxed and offered a smile. “Did you find everything, or did Santana steal your shirt?”  
  


Will blinked, thoughts of appropriate behavior and possible _in_ appropriate behavior and risk derailed. “Wait. What?”  
  


“She was talking about it before you got sick,” Kurt shrugged. “She and Brittany started planning something around October, I think. It was incredibly disturbing.” He looked curiously at the bundle of clothes in Will’s arms and added, “I guess she’s happy enough to have you back that she decided against it.”  
  


“Oh,” was all Will could come up with. He sighed and resisted the urge to rub at his temples. It was good to be back, even if he never wanted to know about his kids’ thought processes again, ever. He tried to refocus. “What did you want to talk about, again?”  
  


Kurt threw him a fondly exasperated look and arched a meaningful eyebrow.  
  


Will involuntarily glanced back through the open doorway. No one was looking, and all the kids were far too focused on their own sodden clothes to care about two absences. “Come on,” he said as calmly as he could, laying a hand just above Kurt’s elbow to steer him down the hall.   
  


He knew it was an awful idea. After just being _fired_ less than a week ago, Will couldn’t afford any black marks on his record, and if anyone suspected something was going on, Sue might decide that she could do without him after all. But despite the jubilation of being back, bits of memory kept flashing into his mind at awkward times – familiar lips kissing the back of his neck, breasts pressed into his back, the scent of Vick’s in the air mingling with sweat and sex. It wasn’t something he wanted to deal with again, not after the shame and anger that followed, and since the opportunity was presenting itself, he was willing to be a bit reckless if it would block out the memories and regret for a while in favor of celebrating getting his life back.  
  


Kurt was walking closer to him than usual, and Will glanced at him as their shoes continued to squeak on the tile, the sounds and shouted goodbyes of the choir room fading with distance. With half his attention occupied by the (stupid, completely insane) danger he was putting his freshly-recognized professionalism in, Will absently wondered if Kurt had caught a mild strain of the flu as well – he was looking thinner and more worn down than Will remembered. He knew that Kurt would be insulted if he brought it up, though, and there was little he could do to make Kurt talk if he didn’t want to, so he didn’t speak until they had reached the handicapable bathroom near the teacher’s lounge. “Is this…?” Will let go of Kurt’s elbow and gestured vaguely at the door.  
  


Kurt looked at him with a quirked eyebrow and a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, but nodded. “This should be fine.”  
  


Will glanced up and down the hallway as he followed Kurt in. There was still no one around and the double damp lines on the floor suggested that Artie had already been by and gone, so there was little chance of interruption. His heart starting to beat faster from nerves, Will clicked the lock shut and the sound seemed to echo off the industrial tiles and the buzz of the florescent lights.  
  


“So,” Will said, not sure of how to break the silence without sounding awkward or desperate, “do you think the mash-up turned out ‘modern’ enough?”  
  


Kurt blinked at him for a second, but half-smiled in response and leaned back against the wall gingerly. “It was serviceable,” he lightly admitted. “Now you just need to keep it up when Ms. Holliday isn’t around to help.”  
  


Will pressed his lips together, his hopes of light conversation to kill the awkwardness derailed. This wasn’t the conversation he wanted to be having, even if he’d wondered about it a few uncomfortable times. “It was nice of her to volunteer,” he said as noncommittally as possible.  
  


“She told you that she let us do Cee-Lo, right?” Kurt said as he crossed his arms casually. “And Chicago.”  
  


“Yeah,” Will said, his voice sounding like a snap even to himself. “I heard.” He tried to refocus again on the situation at hand – he’d had an incredible amount of fun with the group and Holly that afternoon and he was already thinking of Holly as a friend. Terri was out of his life again and his bad decisions were firmly in the past. It was time to incorporate some (though certainly not all) of Holly’s suggestions about loosening up a bit and moving on. Will took a deep breath and observed the way Kurt’s arms were clutched tightly around himself and the way his wet shirt stuck to his skin where Mercedes’ retaliation had soaked him. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked in a softer voice.  
  


“A bit,” Kurt admitted, an expectant look crossing his face. “I thought we were going to be changing out of our costumes.” When Will took a breath and started to undo the buttons on his own vest, Kurt smiled, his posture relaxing infinitesimally. And then Kurt asked, blunt as ever, “Did you bring a condom?”  
  


Will almost choked on his spit. “I – no,” he managed. He cleared his throat to allow himself to recover from the sudden directness. “Sorry, I wasn’t exactly expecting this when I came in to school today.” Kurt hummed, a quiet, frustrated sound as if he genuinely had reason to believe that Will would carry around rubbers when he was teaching (which had fairly insulting implications that Will preferred not to think about) but Will forged ahead, cautiously pointing out, “We’ve never – we didn’t have one before. If you wait a minute, I might have some kind of lubricant in my bag; we could still-”  
  


Kurt cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No,” he sighed, looking disappointed, “we’re not doing this unprotected.”  
  


Will could feel his brow furrowing. It wasn’t that Kurt didn’t have a good point; his belated research suggested that they should have been using protection all along, but he couldn’t think of why Kurt would be choosing now to halt things because of that. “Is there any particular reason?” he asked, eyeing Kurt and wondering if something had happened.   
  


“Ms. Holliday and I were gossi- _talking_ and she told me about your hookup with your ex-wife. Long story short, I’d rather not be collateral damage to your terrible luck with women.” Kurt was giving him a flat look so heavy with judgment that it took a second for his words to register.  
  


Will gaped for a split second before he made himself close his mouth with a snap. He could feel his face flushing, despite the fact that there was no reason at all he should be shamed by his student’s opinion of his personal life. “Kurt, that’s really not something you should be discussing with your teachers,” he groaned while he tried to think of a proper way to respond to that.  
  


“It’s one of the ways Ms. Holliday and I bonded,” Kurt said with a depressingly typical lack of shame. “I didn’t tell her anything about what’s happened between us. But for the record, the answer is ‘no’ if you ever want to play ‘baby,’ and I hope you know it took me hours to get that image out of my head.”  
  


Will finished removing his vest and hung it over the doorknob to stall for time. He very deliberately pretended not to hear the last sentence, because there was no way that could have come out of Kurt’s mouth, complete with the implication that now at least two other people knew, _oh God_. “So, I take it you spent a lot of time with her this past week?” he asked, for lack of other things to say.  
  


“Not particularly,” Kurt shrugged, starting to unbutton his own vest – and that was good, it meant they heading for less awkward territory. “I had a lot going on, what with trying to get Mercedes a date, avoiding rioting students, and my own – social engagements. Ms. Holliday was very engaging when I was able to catch her at a free moment, though.” When Will glanced over, Kurt was looking unnervingly starry-eyed. “Did you know she used to sing in a band?”  
  


“No, but I can believe it.” Will fumbled his belt buckle open and tried to think of a more effective way to change the subject.  
  


“And she can do a flawless Cher imitation,” Kurt sighed (making Will grimace as he tried not to think about how Terri had accused Holly of being a drag queen). “Sam was asking her to do impersonations, and it turns out she can do a perfect Heidi Klum, too. And then she sang Love Don’t Cost a Thing with us.”  
  


Will sighed. His irritations from earlier were creeping back in, and he couldn’t help himself from blurting out, “Is that why you asked her to take over? Because you thought she’d be – I don’t know, _hip_?”  
  


Kurt rolled his eyes. “As fantastic and influential as Ms. Lopez is, that song is from the nineties and cannot be unironically described as ‘hip.’” He’d stopped undressing after hanging his vest over the handicapped bar and was looking curiously at Will. “How did you know I asked her?”  
  


“Rachel came to visit and told me that Holly had taken over,” Will eyed Kurt, watching for a reaction, “at your behest.”  
  


Kurt was entirely unabashed, actually quirking a sardonic eyebrow. “Did Rachel also tell you that I practically saved her life?” he drawled. “She wasn’t in charge for five seconds before she provoked the first murder attempt. We needed a qualified supervisor and I was lucky enough to have met Ms. Holliday when she subbed before.”   
  


Will wasn’t entirely surprised, but he still felt the need to point out, “I still got _fired_ because Sue liked her better.” The process of getting out of their wet clothes seemed to have come to an abrupt and depressing halt.  
  


The flat, annoyed look Kurt was sending him nearly set the temperature in the room plummeting. “Do you seriously expect me to be able to predict Coach Sylvester’s actions?”  
  


“No,” Will admitted. “But I was a little surprised when I found out who had and hadn’t gone to her about getting me reinstated.” And there it was, the thing that had been nagging at the back of Will’s mind ever since Sue had helpfully taunted him about the small percentage of his kids that were willing to go to bat for him. Most of the tingling anticipation he’d managed to hang on to was gone, leaving disappointment and a faint resentment.  
  


“Like I said,” Kurt murmured, and his fingers were suddenly gripping the wet fabric of his sleeves harder, “I had a lot going on this week. It had nothing to do with you.”  
  


Will’s lips tightened. The week hadn’t exactly been a cakewalk for him, either; between the miserable sickness, his temporary firing, and, well, _Terri,_ one of the only things that had kept him going was that his students needed him. Finding himself so easily replaced had stung. “This isn’t about… _this,_ is it?” he had to ask, making a hand gesture that widely encompassed the room, the humming fluorescent light, and both of them.  
  


Kurt pursed his lips. “Of course not.” His glance slid awkwardly to the side and he admitted, “Besides, what if Coach Sylvester realized something? I wouldn’t have told her, but sometimes she just _knows_ things.”  
  


Will tried to ignore the little chill that ran up his spine at the idea of Sue finding out. Between the profound joy she took in destroying anything Will held dear and her inexplicable fondness for Kurt, there was little question of her showing mercy if she was to realize what was going on. “That might be a good point,” he sighed, reminding himself that everything was back to status quo again and he needed to let it go.  
  


“It’s not as if I’m complaining about ‘this,’ anyway,” Kurt pointed out archly. He was starting to smile again as he crossed the room to where Will was standing and reached up to toy casually with Will’s tie. “You don’t get freaked out because I’m a guy, you’re _interested,_ and you wouldn’t – you don’t push.”  
  


Kurt’s tone was still light, but there was something under it that made Will stare at him, brows furrowing. “Kurt,” Will said slowly, “are you sure-“  
  


“Anyway,” Kurt cut him off, ignoring his aborted question and blithely continuing, “It’s fun and I also enjoy getting, well, practice. So on that note…” Will’s attempts to protest were cut short by Kurt giving his tie a light tug and glancing downward significantly. “There’s something I want to learn to do. Do you mind?”  
  


Will frowned at him, puzzled and wondering what he was missing. Kurt rolled his eyes and lifted an eyebrow. “What, exactly, would I be ‘minding’ here?” Will asked cautiously.  
  


Kurt’s lips moved in a silent ‘oh my god’ and then he was letting go of Will’s tie and sinking to his knees.  
  


Will was fairly certain his brain shorted out at that point.  
  


“Don’t expect this again,” Kurt informed him, scowling mildly up at him. “I just want to know how to do this without embarrassing myself if – well, in case it ever comes up.”  
  


Will suspected this was the part where he should be saying ‘no’ and pulling Kurt to his feet, then letting them both change into their dry clothes like the reasonable people they both were. Yes, he had been vaguely expecting something to happen and was willing to deal with the risk and awkwardness if it would bring back a little normality (although the fact that _this_ was apparently his ‘normal’ now was problematic at best.), but there was also the inescapable fact that getting blown by a student in a school restroom was probably the lowest cliché he could sink to. Unfortunately, a new rush of adrenaline like that from performing earlier was drowning out his rational thoughts, a strange desperation urging him to forget about the inherent sleaziness of it and just let it happen.   
  


Will gritted his teeth and tried to think of a very good reason to say no, but – he’d made enough bad decisions already this week, hadn’t he? What was one more? At least this was one that he’d made before and didn’t involve a history of deception and active betrayal.  
  


He tried not to grimace as he nodded.  
  


Kurt rolled his eyes. “I may not have done this before, but you don’t need to look like you’re agreeing to a date with Coach Sylvester. Just-“ his hands were already reaching for Will’s belt, but there was a flash of uncertainty in his expression before it was covered up by smooth confidence, “Just tell me what works and what doesn’t.”  
  


Will stared down at Kurt as he worked Will’s belt open, then drew down the zipper, tugging the damp fabric down around Will’s thighs. Will carefully brushed a hand over Kurt’s shoulder when his fingers curled into the waistband of his boxers. “Are you sure?” he asked seriously.  
  


Kurt looked up with his lips curving into a half-smile and nodded as he pulled Will’s boxers down to meet his pants. “I’m positive. I don’t want my first time with a boyfriend to be a total disaster.”  
  


Will nodded and bit his lip when Kurt’s fingers and breath drifted over his soft cock, feeling himself stir slightly despite the discomfort as he was exposed to the cold air. He stared steadily at the far wall, hands flat against the door behind him as Kurt wrapped a hand around his cock and began pumping it awkwardly. For a moment, Will almost winced at the rough friction on sensitive skin, but then there was a surge of pleasure as wet heat enveloped him. Will couldn’t help but look down to see that Kurt had bent down to take the head into his mouth, and Will found himself nodding rapidly to reassure Kurt that, yes, that was a good start.  
  


Kurt seemed to gain some confidence from the reaction and kept pumping the shaft in his hand, letting the other hand come to rest on Will’s hip for balance. The visual of his student’s lips and hand around his cock was a thousand times more inappropriate than Will had anticipated, but it was thankfully easy enough to suppress the rush of guilt when the sensations were making him harden in said student’s mouth and the wash of arousal was decimating logical thought.  
  


But then Kurt’s lips were dragging off of him and Kurt was sitting back briskly to ask, “Is a slow start okay? I don’t think porn provides the best guidelines, so my sense of pacing is probably skewed.”  
  


Will let his head drop back against the door and took a deep breath before answering as calmly as he could. “A slow start is definitely preferable to nothing at all. Look, when the time comes, you’ll be able to judge by the mood. If you keep going, I can let you know how it’s working.”  
  


Kurt shrugged, and for a second Will’s eyes were drawn to the translucent white of his wet shirt and Will had to narrow his eyes and look harder – there was some kind of dark discoloration on Kurt’s shoulders under the fabric – but then Kurt was leaning in again and taking Will in further, and that line of thought died instantly. Will heard himself let out an embarrassing grunt when slick heat descended over him again and he had to clench his hands into fists against the door when Kurt began to bob his head experimentally, lips dragging up and down the shaft.  
  


“You can, ah, you can use your tongue a bit,” Will managed to get out, “whenever you feel ready.”  
  


He hadn’t meant the last part as a challenge, but judging by the look Kurt threw at him and the suddenly tight grip on his hip, Kurt had taken it as one, and he immediately felt an additional pressure along the underside of his cock as Kurt began to lick along it with each dip of his head.   
  


“Yeah, okay,” Will said on an unsteady exhale. “Like that.”  
  


And maybe he wasn’t as desperate as he’d been previous times, but Will still had to struggle not to buck his hips up into the welcoming heat that enveloped him, and it became twice as difficult when Kurt pulled back until just the head was in his mouth and proceeded to flick his tongue across it. Will barely stifled the first surprised moan, and definitely didn’t manage to stifle the second one when Kurt dipped his head to take in more and actually began to suck, his cheeks hollowing with each pull.  
  


Suddenly and tragically, the sensations came to an abrupt stop and Will registered the feel of damp hair under his hands. “Oh,” he said awkwardly, seeing Kurt paused with his lips still stretched around Will’s cock, Will’s hands somehow having landed in his hair. “Ah, sorry, I can just-“  
  


He reluctantly started to take his hands out of Kurt’s hair, but the speculative look that was being aimed up at him gave him pause. And then Kurt gave a one-shouldered shrug, lowered his eyes, and started moving again, dragging his tongue up and down the underside of Will’s cock as he hollowed his cheeks.   
  


Will made some involuntary noise and tried not to clutch Kurt’s hair between his fingers. The softness and rubbing and soft pulls around his cock were beginning to get overwhelming, but the door against his back was grounding and pressing into it reminded him that he couldn’t just roll his hips into Kurt’s mouth until he tipped over the edge.  
  


Kurt glanced up at him again, as if gauging his reaction as he tried flicking his tongue against the head on the upstroke, and for a second there was a flash of different blue eyes in Will’s mind, hopeful and desperate and so familiar it hurt, and Will dug his fingers hard into the hair under his hands. Kurt made a soft sound of annoyance, the vibrations buzzing around Will’s cock, but Will only unclenched his fingers for a second so that they weren’t pulling, then wove them into it again. Kurt rolled his eyes but didn’t complain further, and Will concentrated on the hair in his grip – damp and dark and light on product after the performance, the strands short enough that he could feel the ends tickling his palms, emphatically _not_ long enough to tangle and ensnare and-  
  


Kurt made a sound of muffled protest and Will murmured a lust-roughened “Sorry” and loosened his grip.  
  


Kurt continued to periodically experiment, and Will offered feedback as coherent as he could manage, noting the things that made his knees almost buckle with approving groans. The hand around his cock had migrated back to clumsily cup his balls, rolling them lightly and out of sync with the movement of Kurt’s mouth, but Will could still feel the tingling that set up in them, the tension that made him gasp, “Kurt, you should – I’m getting close.”  
  


Kurt hummed around him in acknowledgment (Will was still doing his best not to think about the implications of Kurt practically singing while he blew his music teacher) and picked up the pace rather than backing off.  
  


Will jumped, though, when the hand on his balls drifted back, skimming behind them to press – “Whoa,” he said, tugging lightly on Kurt’s hair to urge him back. “What are you doing?”  
  


Kurt pulled off his cock with an annoyed scowl tugging at swollen and spit-shiny lips, but he let his hand drop. “I’m trying to find your perineum. What did you think?”  
  


Will grimaced and wished he hadn’t stopped things, because now his cock was out in the cold air and the sensation had stopped just when he’d been so close he _ached_. “Sorry, I don’t know. I just – warn me, next time.”  
  


Kurt was giving him a long, hard look, but then he took a deep breath and shook his head quickly, as if to drive off a thought. “Fine,” he sighed. “Now, if you’re not going to freak out again…”  
  


Will didn’t have time to decipher the odd look because Kurt was taking him into his mouth again and his hand was back, steadily moving to the skin behind his balls and pressing, and this time Will couldn’t help his hips jumping at the unexpectedly intense jolt of pleasure. Kurt took the thrust without complaint and steadied Will’s hip with his free hand before crooking his finger again. That and the renewed suction and heat and the wet pull of Kurt’s mouth had Will’s entire body tensing as his vision clouded around the edges and he came with a strangled grunt, his hips rutting forward against Kurt’s bracing hands.  
  


Kurt didn’t pull off as he worked Will through his orgasm, and Will couldn’t drag his eyes away from where he could just barely see his throat working. Will groaned again and shakily smoothed Kurt’s hair for a moment until the sensation of Kurt’s mouth moved from soothing pleasure to discomfort and he urged him up and off his cock.  
  


“So?” Kurt said almost primly as he sat back on his heels, flexing his jaw and bringing up a hand to rub at a cramp along his neck.  
  


“Uh,” Will said intelligently. He pulled himself together enough to force a breathless laugh and observe, “I think – you have it down. I mean, you’re not going to be embarrassing yourself. At all.” He stopped himself from adding anything further and cleared his throat. “You’re going to be fine.”  
  


Kurt’s lips twitched at the corner and Will tried not to stare, or flush. “Good. Thank you for that.” He stood up a little stiffly as Will pulled his boxers up and kicked off his pants, remembering that the ostensible purpose of coming in had been to change them.  
  


It wasn’t until Will had changed into dry pants and had his soaked shirt and tie hanging over his vest that he glanced over at Kurt. They’d both been changing in comfortable silence, but he hadn’t paid attention to Kurt’s stilted movements, assuming that he was just sore from kneeling for an extended period. When he saw the tent in Kurt’s boxer-briefs, he raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to be okay, there?” he asked as delicately as possible.  
  


Despite Will’s attempt to not embarrass him, Kurt flushed slightly. “I’ll be fine,” Kurt said as he concentrated on buttoning up his dry shirt. “I can – deal with it later.”  
  


Will frowned. That didn’t seem entirely fair, and it certainly wasn’t reciprocal, but there was no way to offer help that wouldn’t be incredibly awkward. “I guess you could just, ah, wait until I head out, then?” Will offered, trying to sound reasonably upbeat about it. “That way we won’t be leaving together, too.”  
  


Unexpectedly, Kurt hesitated, his fingers clutching hard at his shirt. “Mr. Schue, I’d rather not – I think it will be fine if we walk back together. No one will care, I can guarantee it.” He pressed his lips together until they went from swollen-red to pale with tension, and it was a moment before he looked away and said, “I can just… deal with it now, if you’ll turn around for a minute.”  
  


“Um.” Will thought about it for a second, then sighed. “We need to get out soon, and it’ll probably be faster if I – help.” Kurt was staring at him again in disbelief, but Will made himself ignore it and crossed the room to stand just in front of him. “Do you mind?”  
  


Kurt blinked but shook his head, so Will steeled himself and awkwardly slid his hand down the front of Kurt’s boxer briefs, grasping him firmly and stroking as best he could from the odd angle. Kurt made a strangled sound and reached back to grab the bar on the wall with one hand for balance, the other one automatically going to tug his underwear down and out of the way. Without the fabric obstructing him, Will found his hand’s movements became far easier, and he reached around behind Kurt with his free hand to cup his ass, guiding him to fuck into the tight circle of his fist. Kurt’s eyes fluttered closed against the fluorescent light as his hips jerked into Will’s encircling hand and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to contain the sounds wrung out of him.   
  


Honestly, there was something inescapably strange and probably dirty about the situation, but Will couldn’t help watching the play of emotions across Kurt’s face and hearing the stifled sounds that escaped his lips and remembering the situations where he’d seen and heard them before, Kurt hot and clenching tight around his cock, bucking against him – Will wasn’t aware that he’d gripped Kurt’s ass harshly until the muscles tensed beneath his fingers and Kurt choked out a broken, incoherent “Bl- _ah_ ” and then Kurt was coming with a broken gasp, spilling over his fist.  
  


Will loosened his grip reluctantly and waited until Kurt was steady on his feet again to step back, grimacing at the state of his hand. By the time Will had rinsed it off in the sink and ensured that there was no trace of either of their come on him, Kurt was fully dressed and looking impressively unruffled apart from where his lips were bitten-red.   
  


“Are you almost ready?” Kurt asked in a voice that was only a little husky.  
  


Will shrugged. “Let me get my shirt and bundle everything together, and I’ll be set.”  
  


Kurt nodded and watched with mild interest as Will hastened to finish dressing and collect his things. As Will opened the door a crack to peer out and check that the hallway was empty, feeling mildly ridiculous about the whole thing, he almost missed Kurt’s half-teasing half-fond, “Welcome back to McKinley, Mr. Schue."


	7. Furt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the wedding, it looks like things are looking up, for once. Naturally, this leads to sex in a dressing room.

Will jumped at the sound of the door closing.  
  


“Good job, Mr. Wedding Singer.” Kurt was smiling teasingly as he flicked the lock, but there was none of the usual challenge to it.  
  


Will blinked but smiled back, tugging lightly at his tie to loosen it. He’d abandoned his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves almost as soon as he was off the stage; the lights and crowded room hadn’t bothered him while he was letting out his inner lounge singer (which had been a blast, although he wasn’t likely to admit that), but the chilly autumn air outside had started to look tempting as soon as the rush of performing faded away.  
  


Kurt sighed happily and leaned back against the door, more relaxed than Will had seen him in months. “I can’t believe everything went off so well,” he laughed. “I was so sure that the centerpieces would catch fire or the caterers would have gotten the numbers wrong or _something_. I mean, I’ve been building in contingency plans non-stop since they told us, but still…”  
  


“It went great,” Will agreed. He was feeling warm and relaxed; the open bar had been a welcome substitute once the buzz from applause was past, and there had been a few single women on Carole’s side of the family who were more than interested in getting to know the wedding singer.  
  


“And Finn!” Kurt had yet to stop smiling. “I can’t believe him! Dad, either. You know, I think things are finally starting to look up.”  
  


“It is about time that happened. Oh, and great job teaching them to dance,” Will said, abruptly remembering that he’d wanted to bring it up earlier. “Finn didn’t step on anyone all night, and one of your aunts told me about your dad’s dancing at other weddings, so,” he laughed, “yeah. Color me impressed.”  
  


Kurt shrugged and waved a hand with blatantly false modesty. “Well, I figured it was safest for everyone’s feet if he had some of the basics down.” He hastened to add, “That cousin did eventually recover, though. I don’t know what they told you, but it wasn’t even a complete fracture.”  
  


Silence fell in the room for a moment, companionable but thrumming with a too-familiar tension. Kurt was looking at Will out of the corner of his eye. Will coughed. “Shouldn’t you be going home with Finn? The reception is over.”  
  


“Dad and Carole already left for their motel,” Kurt shrugged, not breaking eye contact. There was something unusually open about his smile, an honest happiness that Will hadn’t been able to associate with weddings in a long time but that still tugged the corners of his lips into an answering one. “Finn snuck off with Rachel; I have no desire to go home right away in case I risk permanent retinal scarring” He took a deep breath and pushed off from the door, strolling over to where Will stood by the vanity table. He was standing well within Will’s personal space now, reaching up too casually to adjust the knot on Will’s loosened tie. “I wanted to say ‘thank you.’ For helping out.”   
  


Kurt’s hands were light and careful when they brushed against his chest, lingering on the tie before letting go. Will looked at him for a moment, undecided, the air feeling thick and heavy in his lungs. He decided, _to hell with it_. He was just barely tipsy, but the adrenaline from before was still buzzing, magnifying every sensation into something dramatic and sharp, and none of the women he’d spoken to had shown an interest in anything beyond flirting. The celebratory mood still hung in the air and they were alone except for the catering service and a few straggling guests still finding their coats, so why not? He smiled and Kurt finally exhaled the breath he’d apparently been holding.   
  


“You were tense earlier, when you were dancing,” Will said casually.  
  


“Really.” Kurt arched an eyebrow at the apparent non sequitur and waited for him to continue.  
  


“Take off your jacket,” Will told him. “I think I might be able to help.” He heard a soft rustle behind him as he turned around and flicked a couple of buttons on the CD player he’d left in the room to practice with. When he turned back, Kurt was draping his jacket over Will’s, careful not to crush the boutonniere, and shooting him a curious look. “Come on,” Will said, holding out his arms.  
  


Kurt shrugged and slipped easily into place, clasping Will’s left hand and letting him place the other in the small of his back. He made a mild sound of surprise as Will pulled him in from arm’s length, their bodies almost touching.  
  


“First,” Will instructed over the opening strains of brassy, Caribbean-influenced jazz, “holding your partner two feet away might work for the waltz, but not for this.” He could feel Kurt’s sharp inhale as they started moving, stepping to the music. He automatically hummed along for a few beats. _Like the lazy ocean hugs the shore, hold me close, sway me more…_ He laughed softly. “You need to relax. Just follow what I’m doing, you don’t need to back-lead.”  
  


Kurt shrugged, but Will could feel him trying to follow his instructions. “Sorry,” Kurt sighed. “I’m used to Finn and my Dad, and they need all the back-leading they can get.”  
  


Will smiled and spun him out into a fast twirl before pulling him in again, making him laugh in surprise. “Just go with it. Feel the music.” Will stepped forward on a held note, smoothly sliding a leg between Kurt’s thighs and dipping him backwards so that his back arched against Will’s hand. Will was able to support his weight even though he was more solid than any previous dance partner he’d had, but there was still some stubborn tension in the line of Kurt’s back, making the move more difficult than it should have been. Will brought him up again, pulling Kurt to rest against his chest for a second, feeling his quick heartbeat pattering against him. “You still need to stop fighting it,” he said quietly before creating enough space between them to resume the steps again.   
  


Kurt blinked up at him dubiously despite the tinge of flustered pink across his cheeks. “Fighting what? I’m perfectly relaxed.”  
  


Will shook his head and pulled him into a series of quick steps that brought them across the room to the window, shuttered against the night outside. Kurt was smiling despite himself as the music continued, _Other dancers may be on the floor…_ “You’re still trying to lead.”  
  


Kurt rolled his eyes, something distant suddenly in his expression. “Maybe if people other than Mercedes ever _let_ me lead…” He inhaled sharply as Will pulled him flush against him for a slow spin and another dip. He looked up at Will when it became apparent he had frozen and would be holding him there, waiting expectantly. He sighed. Slowly, Will watched the unreadable look leave his eyes and felt him relax until Will was supporting him completely. He pulled him up again and they took off across the room once more.  
  


_…stay with me, sway with me!_   
  


By the final few steps, they were still plastered together, breathing heavily. Kurt sighed as the last note thinned out and disappeared, leaning in to close the last miniscule distance between them and resting his cheek on Will’s shoulder. Will could feel Kurt’s breath washing across his neck and swallowed. Without giving himself time to think about it, he let the hand that had been on Kurt’s lower back slide downward.  
  


Kurt didn’t protest but nestled impossibly closer, his hand on Will’s back flexing and flattening as if he was trying to pull Will close enough to melt into each other. Will tried not to groan at the way their hips were suddenly pressed together, the feel of Kurt’s ass cupped in his hand. He disentangled his left hand from Kurt’s and brought it around to rest on his back, tracing it gently down his spine and drawing a shudder.  
  


Kurt had taken advantage of his now-free hand and had laid it lightly on Will’s shoulder, urging him to stay in place while he leaned in and tentatively mouthed at his neck, teasing his skin with soft touches of lips and tongue. Will tilted his head to the side to give Kurt better access, enjoying the careful attention, the hot wet drag across his suddenly sensitive skin. Kurt made a surprised, gratified sound as both of Will’s hands found their way to his ass and gripped hard, digging in and pulling their hips together.  
  


Will hummed in approval as Kurt kissed and mouthed his way up the side of his neck, stopping to very lightly scrape his teeth over the juncture between chin and neck, under the shelf of his jaw. He could feel Kurt’s lips curling in a smile against his chin in response, the aborted gasp when Will shifted his weight slightly so that he could slip his thigh between Kurt’s again, pushing up against the hard line he’d felt in his pants. Will smiled and pushed upwards again, enjoying the way Kurt reflexively rolled his hips down into the pressure. Kurt’s hand on his back clenched hard, tugging at his shirt fabric, and Will laughed, grinding his thigh up and against him again.   
  


Then Kurt’s free hand was running down from his shoulder to the front of his shirt, hurriedly fumbling with the buttons, popping each out of its hole as quickly as possible as he continued to press wet kisses under Will’s jaw, his breath coming in fast pants against his skin. When the shirt was hanging loose and unbuttoned, Will reluctantly leaned away long enough to tug the tails out of his pants and pull it off along with the loosened tie, not even bothering to undo the knot. Kurt had clenched his legs tightly around his thigh to prevent him from pulling away, but Will stopped him as he tried to lean back in.  
  


“Your turn,” he murmured, resting one hand on Kurt’s shoulder and tugging at the material there. Kurt nodded absently, his hands going to the buttons of his own shirt and undoing them with far more ease. Will thought that he probably didn’t realize his legs were trembling slightly on either side of Will’s, either from arousal or the strain of holding himself up, but he didn’t point it out as he dropped his own hands to Kurt’s belt buckle and undid it as carefully as possible. He also resisted laughing as Kurt practically attacked the button to his own fly, hesitating before taking a reluctant step back to shrug his open shirt off, toe his shoes off, and slide down his slacks, laying both over his discarded jacket with as much haste as Will had ever seen him use to handle clothes.  
  


Will did let out an easy laugh at the impatient look he was receiving, but he reached out and caught him by the hips instead of undoing his own slacks as Kurt’s quick downward glances practically ordered, pulling him close to straddle his thigh again. Kurt looked unimpressed but leaned in, bringing their bare chests against each other, the heated contact of skin on skin welcome and unexpectedly intimate. Will’s hands dropped to their previous position, now separated from skin by only a thin layer of cotton.  
  


“Okay,” Kurt gasped as his hands squeezed and explored, roaming across familiar flesh, “you really, really need to work on this teasing thing, Mr. Schue. Believe it or not, it ceased to be endearing after the first time.”  
  


Will shook his head but didn’t try to stop Kurt as he scooted back just enough to get his hands between their bodies and undid Will’s belt, then fly. He let Kurt tug the material down over his hips, movements becoming rushed as Will ran his fingers over the material covering the groove of his ass, trailing them down with teasing pressure.  
  


“Shoes,” Kurt ordered breathlessly, giving Will’s slacks a final push so that they pooled around his ankles. Will gave his ass one last firm squeeze that made Kurt groan before pushing him away lightly and stepping out of his shoes and slacks accordingly. Kurt’s hands were reaching for his boxers when Will remembered something, so he held up an apologetic hand to forestall him and bent down, fishing through the pockets of his pants.  
  


“Hold on a minute,” Will sighed. “I think I left – oh, here.” He caught the plastic packets with the tips of his fingers and fished them out of the tangle of fabric, straightening up with them held smugly aloft.  
  


Kurt raised an eyebrow, suddenly much more composed and looking far less likely to attempt to jump Will. “You brought _lube_ to my father’s wedding?” he asked in flat disbelief.  
  


Will laughed and scratched at the side of his neck awkwardly. “Sometimes life takes… unexpected turns,” he said, trying for nonchalance. “I wasn’t planning for anything to happen, if that’s what you’re thinking.”   
  


Kurt held his dubious look for a few more seconds, then sighed. “I suppose I should just be glad you have a condom this time.” He shook his head, but the smile was creeping back.  
  


Will took a last quick glance around the room – the door was still locked, the shades on all the windows were closed, and there was no way they would be interrupted or seen. The risk of the situation still hummed under his skin, but even if things went wrong, there were no intruders around who would recognize them as anything other than two members of the wedding party. For once, a sense of security snuck in, warming Will as much as the remaining buzz and the evening’s infectious joy.  
  


Still holding the condom and lube, Will hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down, sighing at the slight friction of the fabric sliding over his hardening cock. When he looked up, Kurt had followed suit and was watching him with open want. Will grinned and raised an eyebrow. Kurt shrugged, unabashed, and closed the distance between them, pressing close. Will let his hands go down to rest on Kurt’s hipbones, his thumbs resting just above and stroking lightly at the skin there. Kurt shivered and buried his face against Will’s neck, cheeks burning as their bare cocks came into contact. Kurt made a low noise and ground against him, the unfamiliar friction and sliding coaxing Will into full hardness.  
  


Will tried not to make an embarrassing sound himself, and distracted himself by making another fast survey of the room. There was no furniture except for the impersonal white vanity table and a dresser, along with some folding chairs – nothing that would be sturdy enough if someone were to rest his weight on it. But then Kurt’s mouth was open against his neck again, and his fingers were digging into Will’s back and the feeling of their erections sliding together was intoxicating but not enough, and Will seriously needed to get them into some position they could actually hold, so he impulsively dropped to his knees, using his hands on Kurt’s hips to bring him down with him.  
  


Kurt made a questioning noise as his knees hit the carpet hard and pulled away from Will’s neck to look at him in surprise, but Will just shook his head. He pushed and nudged and directed, meeting with bemused compliance, until Kurt was positioned on his hands and knees on the floor, looking over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow and a sigh as he gingerly patted at the floor under his hands. “Not that I’m not thrilled by the fact you’re finally doing something, but I hope you realize exactly how filthy this carpet is. It feels like this is where Puck got in earlier and spilled champagne all over.”  
  


Will paused from ripping the lube packet open. He pressed his lips together and gave Kurt a patient look. “Do you have a better suggestion, then?” He was trying to be tolerant, but the arousal clouding his mind was making it difficult to focus, especially when he was suddenly aware of being seconds away from being buried in the tight heat that he’d been remembering at inopportune moments for months (he’d recently found that, while inappropriate erections around students were horrifying enough, there was nothing so mortifying as an inappropriate erection when it was theoretically possible to do something about it).  
  


Kurt shrugged and turned back around again. “No,” he said airily, “I’m just pointing out that you should feel flattered I’m still here.” Will briefly considered the possible benefits of another spanking, but there was enough laughter in Kurt’s tone that he suspected this was his version of being playful.  
  


So instead, he coated his fingers with what felt like half the packet until he was in danger of the lube running down his hand. Once his fingers were slicked, he reached between Kurt’s legs, laying his free hand on his hip to steady him when he twitched at the feel of Will’s fingers sliding against his skin, blindly probing and seeking until they brushed against his entrance. He sighed shakily as Will continued to give the skin outside it feather-light touches, teasingly tracing around and skimming over it until he breathed a strained “Come _on_ , Mr. Schue.”  
  


Will smiled and gave his hip a reassuring squeeze as he let the tip of his index finger rest against his hole, applying a gentle pressure until it slipped inside. Kurt breathed steadily and Will could feel his muscles relaxing around his finger, allowing it to slide in deeper. “Doing good,” he murmured as he withdrew the finger, then cautiously pushed it in again, Kurt’s muscles tightening around it, but not so much as to be painful.  
  


Kurt hummed a wordless agreement and pushed back into the touch as Will continued to pump a finger into him for a few more thrusts before carefully adding a second. He tensed at the additional stretch, but Will paused until he relaxed again, shifting and resettling with his legs spread further apart around where Will knelt behind him. Will petted his hip absently and thrust his fingers in as deep as they could go, making him shudder when his fingertips brushed something inside. He smiled and repeated the motion, bending forward to press a kiss against the base of Kurt’s spine when he let out a soft, involuntary “ _oh_.”  
  


Will twisted his fingers deep one last time before he sat straight up and began to pull them out. He paused at what he saw, though, stopping with his fingers still halfway inside and running his free hand up to Kurt’s back. He frowned, arousal momentarily forgotten. “Kurt, what are these?” he asked quietly, mapping out the fading patchwork of bruises across his shoulders. Even with the flush that had crept over Kurt’s skin, their colors stood out lurid and ugly, reminders of the helplessness and confusion of the last week.  
  


Kurt turned his head to look at him in hazy surprise before his expression shifted to simple exasperation. “What do you think?” he asked impatiently, his thighs twitching with the effort of not pushing back onto Will’s fingers. “Look, you know what happened, can we discuss it another time?”  
  


Will frowned, but slid his fingers back in to appease the annoyance that was starting to creep into Kurt’s strained voice. Kurt leaned into the movement with a soft sound of relief. Will had known that the physical threat had been real before, but seeing the actual damage, now that it was no longer covered by clothing…  
  


“He’s gone,” Kurt reminded him sharply, staring down at the floor rather than Will. He squirmed impatiently on Will’s fingers. “Now, would you please keep going? He’s done more than enough without you letting him be a cockblock in absentia.”  
  


Will couldn’t help tracing his fingers over the fading edge of a particularly large bruise, unable to fully appreciate the feel of Kurt clenching around the fingers of his other hand when he remembered the naked terror he’d seen in Kurt’s eyes earlier that week, the way his shoulders had practically vibrated with fear and tension under his hand.  
  


“Please,” Kurt urged now, his voice intense enough to make up for the fact that he was still staring at the carpet. “It’s _over_.”  
  


Will sighed and shook himself mentally. Sue had expelled the responsible party and things were looking up, as Kurt had said. It was a day for celebration and starting over, moving beyond past problems. Kurt wouldn’t be getting any new bruises soon.   
  


Will focused himself on the present and began thrusting with his fingers again, concentrating on the feel of Kurt hot and lube-slick around them, trying to recapture the hazy arousal from before and sink into pure physical sensation. Soon, Will’s cock was nearly pulsing in interest as his fingers continued to slide easily in and out, and he decided that he’d worked Kurt open enough when Kurt began to push back into the thrusts, not bothering to conceal his impatience.  
  


“Just a second,” Will informed Kurt as he pulled his fingers out, drawing a sigh in response, and retrieved the condom packet. It took a few tries due to the slickness remaining on his fingers, but he eventually tore the packet open and hurriedly stroked his neglected cock back to full hardness before rolling it on and slicking it with the remaining lube. He resisted the temptation to handle himself for any longer; the slippery strokes felt amazing even through latex, but Kurt was looking over his shoulder to see what was taking so long, and Will had a strong suspicion that bitching would be imminent if he hesitated any more.   
  


Kurt made a face when Will wiped his hand clean on the carpet, but if it was already as bad as he’d said, there was no room for it to get worse (and the part of Will’s mind that he firmly labeled as Sue Sylvester’s Influence whispered that they could believably blame that on Puck, too).  
  


“Ready?” Will asked, just to be sure. He had a hand back on Kurt’s hip and was gripping the base of his cock with the other, the head resting against his entrance. Kurt shifted his weight to steady himself and nodded, taking a deep breath and exhaling as Will carefully nudged himself forward. There was a second of resistance, but he slipped past it with a slow and steady push, and then, _God_ , there was a heavenly constriction around the head. Will paused for a second to catch his breath against the sudden wave of pleasure and let Kurt adjust, then thrust further in, burying himself completely with little stabs of his hips until Kurt was panting and straining around him, dropping his head as his muscles stretched to accommodate Will.

  
It felt different with a barrier in the way, and Will admitted that he missed the immediate rush of heat, but he was finding it very hard to complain at the moment (he had an insane moment of wondering whether it would be inappropriate to carry safe sex supplies on him at all times, just in case, but he ignored it). Kurt shifted curiously, dragging him back to the present.  
  


“You aren’t just going to sit there, are you?” Kurt sighed.  
  


Will gave a short breathless laugh. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on it,” he informed him, letting go of the base of his cock so that he could grab Kurt’s hips with both hands and use them to steady him as he eased partway out. The smooth pull was more then welcome, as was the clench as he slid back in. Kurt hummed happily. Will realized that he hadn’t actually been inside someone since _that_ time, and he reveled in the firmness around his cock as he gave a few slow thrusts, burying it as deep as he could and groaning as Kurt rocked back to meet the leisurely strokes. “Is this good?” he managed to ask.  
  


“Mmh,” Kurt agreed without looking back. “That’s – perfect.” His breath hitched as Will began to speed up his movements, stroking into him steadily.  
  


Once his hips were moving in a steady rhythm, Will impulsively leaned forward over Kurt, resting a hand on the floor to support himself as the motion brought his chest into contact with Kurt’s back. Kurt made a questioning sound and arched up into him. Will smiled in approval and lowered himself slightly until he was resting some of his weight on Kurt, the new slide of skin on skin unexpectedly satisfying. Kurt made a sound in the back of his throat that was nearly a whine and thrust back harder than before onto Will’s next stroke. Satisfied that he wouldn’t need to direct Kurt’s movements, Will curved the remaining hand on his hip over to the front of his thigh and slid it down, feeling it flex as Kurt rolled his hips back with each thrust, the tremble as Will leaned more weight onto him, covering him over with his body.  
  


“Please?” he heard Kurt murmur raggedly as Will drew his hand back up Kurt’s thigh, feeling a shiver pass through his skin as Will’s fingers brushed over the junction between leg and hip. Will lowered his head, though, instead of asking Kurt to clarify, and pressed his lips against the sweat-salt skin on Kurt’s shoulder, letting his hand trail from hip to abdomen, flattening it against Kurt’s stomach to feel the muscles shift and shudder under his touch. Will’s strokes had turned short and shallow, rolling his hips deep into Kurt without pulling far out on the outstroke. Kurt’s ragged “Oh my god” was almost lost in a moan when Will shifted the angle of the short thrusts and brushed against something.  
  


By now, Kurt was panting beneath him and shivering at every few strokes, and Will let a low groan of contentment rumble through his chest. Kurt’s skin was slick and heated under him, a welcome contrast from the cooling air in the room, and he clenched tight around him as if trying to pull him deeper and keep him there. “Doing good,” he mumbled into the back of Kurt’s neck, working careless openmouthed kisses into his skin. “ _God_ , that feels good.”  
  


Kurt shuddered at a particularly deep stab of Will’s hips, but still breathed out, “Mr. Schue? Less dirty talk and more touching. _Now_.”  
  


Will’s movements stuttered for a moment before he regained his rhythm. He snorted and shook his head, but trailed the hand on Kurt’s stomach up, ignoring the quiet, frustrated whine that resulted. He dragged it along smooth skin covering surprisingly defined muscles, up and around to his shoulder, carefully avoiding the old bruises, and down his arm to rest over his hand. Kurt sighed in some mixture of annoyance and pleasure at the touch and Will smiled as he felt the movement of the breath against him. He brought his right hand forward as well, laying it on top of Kurt’s free hand and leaning in as close as he could so that his body was covering almost every inch of Kurt’s, feeling every shiver or twitch that ran through him.  
  


Kurt was making soft guttural sounds now with each thrust, pressing back into the insistent roll of Will’s hips and arching up into the solid confining weight as Will gripped hard at his hands and leaned in to return the favor from earlier by mouthing softly at the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Will savored the feeling of Kurt bucking against him, all slick heat around and under him, welcoming him in with each thrust.  
  


Soon, Kurt’s hands were flexing hard under Will’s and his breathing was becoming more labored as his muscles began to tremble, vibrating against Will’s skin. “Touch me,” he forced out.  
  


Will kept his thrusts as steady as he could, although heat was beginning to coil low and tight between his legs and he could feel sweat dotting his hairline as the air became harder to breathe. “But I’m already touching you,” he murmured, squeezing both of Kurt’s hands for emphasis as he gave a harder thrust.  
  


“Now you’re just being-“ Kurt broke off into a stifled whine “-purposefully obtuse.” Will laughed against the back of his neck and Kurt turned his head enough to glare. “Don’t think I won’t headbutt you, Mr. Schue,” he said flatly.  
  


Will raised his eyebrows, but in deference to the safety of his face, he stilled his hips and let go of one of Kurt’s hands to bring his own hand back to clutch his hip. Kurt groaned at the loss of friction, but followed when Will pulled him along as he sat back to kneel on the floor, his cock still buried inside Kurt. The new position had Kurt sitting on his cock, thighs spread open over Will’s, and Kurt made a soft huffing sound as gravity pulled him down even further onto Will than before, his thighs spreading wider to accommodate the drop. Will bit his lip when he found himself going deeper than he’d expected, but used the moment to slide the hand on Kurt’s hip to his upper thigh and rub him comfortingly. Kurt leaned back against his chest and sighed, relaxing even further around him. “In that case, it’s your turn to do some of the work, I think. Ready?” Will asked, dropping the hand that had stayed on Kurt’s to pat his other thigh.  
  


Kurt nodded wordlessly and squirmed until his shins were braced properly against the floor, then lifted himself up, barely an inch off Will’s lap, but Will could feel the tension in the muscles under his palms, the tremble in the skin he lightly caressed with his fingertips. Kurt dropped down the short distance and sighed as he was filled again. Will waited patiently as Kurt slowly began to rise up higher before sinking down, and to move more quickly. Missing the warmth from before, Will lifted a hand so that he could hook an arm around Kurt’s middle, pulling their bodies flush against each other and bringing back the feeling of Kurt’s back sliding against him with each movement.   
  


Even though the shift had cooled some of the heat twisting in Will’s gut, it returned as Kurt continued to ride him, unsteady but gaining purpose, and he found himself groaning into Kurt’s shoulder. His hand was twitching restlessly on Kurt’s thigh, and as Kurt let out a low moan when he dropped down with more force than usual and took Will in harder, Will let his hand curve around to the inside of Kurt’s thigh. He stroked the tensed skin there for a moment until Kurt’s rhythm faltered and he gasped out something desperate and probably uncomplimentary, though Will was thankfully too distracted by the tingling setting up residence in every nerve of his body to pay attention to the words. Kurt nearly bucked off of him when Will finally slid his hand the final few inches over and curled it around his cock, setting up a fast rhythm of strokes that was nearly in time with Kurt’s bouncing on his lap.  
  


Kurt’s movements were becoming jerky and uneven, his breaths coming out as high, desperate whines, so Will moved his hand faster, letting the fluttering of Kurt’s muscles around him compensate for the lack of rhythm as Kurt tried frantically to keep moving despite the trembling Will could feel in every inch of his skin. Finally, Kurt tensed with a low groan and Will felt his fist growing wet. Will continued to stroke him through it, nearly panting himself from the way Kurt was clenching down hard around him and slumping back against his chest, until Kurt lightly pushed his hand with a dazed shake of his head. Will let him, and waited a moment while Kurt recovered, his own muscles shivering as he tried to hold onto the feeling of being _so close_ with Kurt not moving, but still firm and hot around him.   
  


When Kurt made a questioning noise and tipped his head back against Will’s shoulder to look at him, Will smiled tightly and unwound the arm around his middle so that he could give Kurt a meaningful tap on the hip. “Is there a chance of you moving any time soon?” he asked, trying to keep his tone more playful than strained.  
  


Kurt hummed, sounding lazy and contented. “I don’t know, this is fairly pleasant,” he mused, not moving except to lean further back against Will, his breath catching as the movement shifted him slightly on Will’s cock.  
  


“Kurt,” Will warned, in what was _not_ a whine. Kurt only raised his eyebrows at him in response. Will pressed his lips together as the frustration of being denied so close to the edge sent a rush of irritation through him, though it was hard to hold on to when Kurt purposefully clenched around him. The jolt of just-not-enough pleasure made him groan.  
  


Kurt’s lips twitched at the noise and he repeated the action, making Will’s hips buck involuntarily up into him. “I don’t remember you being this impatient before,” Kurt observed lightly, although he did raise himself up as he spoke and dropped back down, pulling a strangled sound from Will’s throat. Kurt tensed for a split-second, apparently feeling the effects of his post-orgasm sensitivity, but Will held back a quiet whimper at the pause and rubbed his open palm in comforting circles on the top of Kurt’s thigh. Kurt relaxed at the soothing motions and leaned back against him with a dramatically martyred sigh. Then he resettled his shins against the floor and obligingly began to ride him again with shallow, deliberate movements.  
  


After an embarrassingly short time of feeling Kurt rising and falling on his lap, smooth skin sliding against his front and overwhelming, clutching heat around his cock, Will found himself panting again. His muscles were beginning to draw tight, a coil of heat settling in his gut as his hips jolted up to meet Kurt’s motions with spasmodic, uncontrolled thrusts. Kurt let out a shocked sound when Will went particularly deep, and the accompanying tightening around him was enough to finally send Will over the edge. Will unconsciously pulled Kurt down with the arm around his waist, holding him close while Will’s hips stuttered up into him a last time.  
  


The feeling of his come spilling into the condom was unfamiliar, but Will was feeling too hazy to really notice as the last shocks of his orgasm faded. Kurt was still seated on his cock and breathing heavily, his thighs tense from the way they were spread across Will’s lap. Will sighed shakily and absently stroked at the skin over Kurt’s hip, leaning down to press an impulsive open-mouthed kiss to the base of Kurt’s neck.  
  


Kurt hummed, the sound vibrating against Will’s lips. “I think this qualified as the best wedding ever,” he sighed, sounding content. When he squirmed slightly, though, Will had to hiss at the movement.  
  


“You have a point, but you’re going to have to get off now,” Will murmured with a half-grimace. He could practically hear Kurt rolling his eyes, but the weight lifted off his lap all the same and there was a second of too much friction as he pulled himself off of Will.  
  


Will was enjoying the utter relaxation that swept through his body too much to move, so he carefully pulled the condom off and knotted it without getting up, giving in to inertia and dropping it on the floor after a second’s hesitation. Kurt gave him a judgmental sidelong look, but didn’t comment.  
  


Will made himself stand on shaky legs by the time Kurt was gingerly pulling on his pants. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so they dressed in comfortable silence, broken only by rustles of fabric and an awkward-in-retrospect “Did you see where my tie went?”   
  


Kurt finished first and leaned against the door again, looking just as he had when he came in except for his slightly mussed hair and a certain boneless relaxation in his stance. He was watching Will pull his jacket on with lazy disinterest when a sudden smile broke across his face. “You know,” Kurt said softly, contentment lacing his voice like a sigh, “I’m really starting to think that things will be okay now.”  
  


\--

  
  
Will was driving home later, the high of before having subsided and given way to satisfied exhaustion, when a clear voice came over the radio. It was an older song that brought with it a pang of nostalgia, but the tune was simple and quietly happy, hope lacing the familiar chords. He shifted in his seat and watched his headlights illuminating the empty road ahead, half his mind on the song and half on where he was going. He remembered the relief and tentative joy in Kurt’s eyes when they’d said goodbye with a casual “See you in school tomorrow,” and as the last notes of the song trailed off, Will repeated the title to himself a few times so that he’d remember. It had been a while since Kurt had gotten a solo.


	8. Special Education

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Sectionals, in the green room. (No sex)

Will came across Kurt in the green room. The competition was over, but the relief of knowing New Directions would be heading to Regionals hadn’t fully sunk in yet. Will was still feeling lightheaded when he opened the door, so when a surprised, “Mr. Schue?” came from the corner, he jerked in shock.  
  


“Kurt?” Will asked, staring at the boy across the room.  
  


Kurt looked much the same as he had onstage; hair styled within an inch of its life and his uniform blazer and tie painfully perfect. There was none of the jittery tension in his pose that had become a constant in the last month, but Will still had to frown, the joy of New Directions getting a reprieve suddenly far less overwhelming. It had been disconcerting enough to see Kurt onstage in that uniform, stepping in time with a group of strangers, but something about seeing Kurt in the room New Directions had occupied hours before with the Dalton crest sewn into his clothing stung.  
  


“What are you doing here?” Will asked, glancing around to see if there were any other members of the Warblers around. They were alone in the room, though.  
  


Kurt shrugged one shoulder and toyed with something out of sight on a chair next to him. “The Dalton bus is having trouble, so I came in here to wait.” His eyes fixed on Will, and Will wished he could tell what Kurt was thinking. “What about you?”  
  


“Brittany lost her shoes somehow,” Will admitted with a smile. “Everyone’s fanning out to search for them before we can go.”  
  


Kurt’s lips twitched in a tense half-smile. “I might be able to help you with that.” He brought up the hand that had been out of sight, one of the errant shoes dangling from his hold. “Kelly and Katie, black, size 8.5?” he recited.  
  


Will sighed in relief and clutched a hand over his heart for effect. “That’s them. Thank you, Kurt, we’ve been running all over trying to find those.”  
  


Kurt shrugged and lowered the shoe down to the chair again. “No problem.” He stayed where he was, hesitating, before offering, “Everyone did really well. I wasn’t sure what to expect if Rachel wasn’t singing, but it turned out beautifully.”  
  


Will felt his lips quirk proudly. Things had been somewhere between tense and painful in the lead-up to the competition, but it had turned out surprisingly well, even without Emma to wish them luck in the audience. “Thanks. You – you guys did well, too.” Will’s smile was beginning to feel a little forced, but he made himself continue, “I was impressed.”  
  


Kurt nodded in acknowledgment, and the subdued reaction sent a pang through Will when he remembered the way Kurt had beamed and strutted after New Directions won Sectionals the year before.  
  


“Do you want to ride home with us?” Will asked impulsively. “We’re going back to Lima soon and there’s room on the bus if Dalton’s hasn’t been fixed by then.”  
  


Kurt’s eyes widened for a moment, but then he shook his head. “I can’t.” He sounded genuinely regretful, and Will found himself unexpectedly, selfishly glad of it. “The Warbler Council wants to discuss how it went before we can go home, and I left my car there, anyway.” Belatedly, he remembered to add, “Thanks anyway.”  
  


“The Warbler Council?” Will repeated dubiously. He had only a vague idea how Dalton’s choir worked and he’d found it strange that he’d shaken the hand of their (surprisingly short) lead singer rather than a teacher or adviser.  
  


Kurt made a face that Will recognized as an attempt to not roll his eyes (Will could, admittedly, count on one hand the number of times Kurt had successfully refrained). “A few of the more senior Warblers run the group. It’s… a very different atmosphere.”  
  


Will had the distinct feeling that Kurt was holding back on saying more. He considered pressing him further, but then remembered that he was technically the director of a rival show choir now and any attempt to interrogate Kurt, no matter his legitimate motivation, would have different connotations. Instead, Will just sighed and nodded his sympathy. “Are you settling in okay?”  
  


Kurt hesitated, but lightly answered, “I will be. It’s safe there, at least.” Will had to wince at that, but Kurt missed it as he looked away, fixing his gaze on one of the black and white photographs on the adjacent wall. His voice grew quieter as he said, “I wish I didn’t have to leave just before the competition, though. It couldn’t have been easy to find a replacement.”  
  


Will frowned, recognizing that it was the closest he would get to an apology. “That wasn’t your fault,” he said wearily. “There was nothing you could have done. I just-“ he grimaced, thinking back on all the times he’d had Kurt in his office to try to help, or walked Kurt to the principal. “I just wish I could have done more, before.”  
  


Kurt finally looked back, his stance looking more tired as the adrenaline he’d nearly radiated onstage faded, and gave him a wry smile. “Don’t worry about it, Mr. Schue. I know you had good intentions. Probably the best of any teacher there, honestly.” His smile thinned and the unspoken _but it wasn’t enough_ hung between them in the awkward silence that followed.  
  


Will swallowed. He opened his mouth to say something, but pressed his lips together again when he realized that he didn’t know what he could say. He should be feeling better. He should be elated. New Directions had overcome their squabbling and tied the competition, and his plan for distributing the songs more equitably had succeeded, but – that squabbling had nearly torn the group apart, and he had sat in the audience with an empty seat beside him, and this was the first he’d had a chance to talk to Kurt since the day Kurt had shakily announced that he was transferring and fled the room (because the boy who’d threatened to kill him was back after a slap on the wrist, because Will could still remember the color of the bruises on Kurt’s back, because Wi- the administration was too _impotent_ to keep it all from happening).  
  


“Here.” Kurt had crossed the room without Will noticing it, and was pushing Brittany’s shoes into Will’s hands without meeting his eyes. “I should probably get back to the Warblers, the bus might be ready by now.” Will accepted the shoes and tried not to notice when his fingers brushed Kurt’s (and that the jolt from it was almost like the heart-ripping press of Emma’s lips against his cheek). Kurt stepped away quickly and glanced back at Will long enough to murmur, “Tell everyone I said hi,” before he slipped past Will and out the door, the sound of his footsteps fading into the distance.  
  


Will closed his eyes for a moment and forced himself to breathe deeply and loosen his death-grip on the shoes’ straps. When he opened his eyes again, orange lamplight streaked in across the floor from outside, clashing with the green walls, and he was completely alone. Will made himself do a last perfunctory check of the room for anything left behind, then headed out in search of the rest of the club, shutting the door firmly behind him.


	9. A Very Glee Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will was glad not to be spending Christmas Eve alone.

Will was in a better mood than he had been for a while when he drove back to Lima. He still wasn’t happy that he’d drawn Sue as his Secret Santa recipient – he could only assume that he’d done something truly awful in a past life to deserve that – but he’d made the right decision in asking Kurt for help. The tissue paper crinkled in the gift bag on the passenger seat as he turned a corner and Will couldn’t help laughing softly to himself. He hadn’t realized that fur-lined track suits even _existed_ , but it figured that Kurt would know where to buy one. The detailed, step-by-step instructions for how to find Westerville’s (oddly specialized) sporting apparel store had been very helpful and equally predictable, and Will reminded himself that he needed to extend his thanks to Kurt the next chance he got.  
  


He tried not to think too hard about the fact that it might be a while until he got that chance – the drive was longer than he’d anticipated, and Kurt had seemed very busy at Dalton Academy, both with schoolwork and… social matters.   
  


Will shook his head with a smile. He was glad for Kurt, he really was. After the way most of the semester had gone, he figured that the kid deserved whatever break he could get. He worried a little that Kurt was heading for a repeat of whatever happened with Finn the year before, but according to Kurt, this Blaine at least had gender preference on his side and was willing to sing shockingly flirty duets with him in public places. Will had only caught the very tail end of the song, but they had sounded good, and Will had allowed himself a pang of selfish regret that Kurt wasn’t around to sing like that at McKinley anymore.   
  


The conversation with Kurt had been nice and surprisingly comfortable – Will had been ready for an awkward reprise of their encounter at Sectionals, but Kurt had been genuinely glad to see him and seemed relaxed and open in a way he hadn’t been for months. There had been an awkward moment toward the end, after Kurt had jotted down instructions to the store and Sue’s measurements (Will was horrified for a second that Kurt _knew_ them, but Kurt had caught his expression, rolled his eyes, and reminded Will that he’d costumed her for the Vogue video). Kurt had glanced at the door, then at Will, and Will found himself clearing his throat as he recognized the speculative light in Kurt’s eyes and couldn’t completely stop the warmth that rose in his cheeks as he registered the fact that they were alone. It seemed that most of the other students had left once classes and clubs were done, and the parking lot had been empty of teachers’ cars. Blaine was the only other person Will had seen on his way in, other than a handful of students talking in staid voices near the main entrance, and there was a door that closed, and a warm fire in front of the leather couches…  
  


Kurt had interrupted his careening train of thought with a regretful grimace. “As excitingly legal as this is now,” he sighed, his eyes flicking again to the open door, “we can’t do anything here. I really can’t afford to get kicked out for public fornication this early in my Dalton career.” He smiled to soften the rejection, but Will shook his head immediately.  
  


“No, of course not,” Will hurried to say, not wanting Kurt to get the wrong idea about why he’d wanted to visit in the first place. “I actually wasn’t – sorry, I wasn’t trying to imply anything.”  
  


Kurt shrugged and chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry, habit.”  
  


Will smiled ruefully in response and purposefully turned the conversation toward less sensitive subjects, and they parted a few minutes later with another comfortable hug.  
  


Two hours later, Will caught himself humming _I’ll be home for Christmas_ as he drove and sighed. Maybe he wouldn’t be spending Christmas with anyone this year, but at least he could make it a good, meaningful one for his students, and he wasn’t about to let Sue ruin that.  
  


\--  
  


Sue had nearly ruined it.  
  


The important thing was, though, Will decided, that she hadn’t. He bumped his shoulder against hers as they leaned side-by-side on the back of the couch, and just laughed when she subtly tried to shoulder-check him in retaliation. His kids were all there, decorating the tree that Sue (Sue!) had brought, and there were Christmas songs in the air and a bubbling sense of joy and goodwill that completely made up for his last, solitary holiday season.   
  


The knock on the door came after the tree was so coated in tinsel that it was barely recognizable under the shimmering mass, and the entire glee club had invaded the kitchen in pursuit of Rachel’s gift of cookies. Will had resigned himself to not getting any but the ones Finn or Rachel set aside for him, so he went to answer the door himself with a shouted admonition to Puck to stay away from the beer in the fridge (the answering “Hey, would I do something like that?” would have been far more convincing if it hadn’t been punctuated with the fridge door slamming shut).  
  


When he swung the door open, he had to blink for a moment. “Kurt? What are you doing here?”  
  


Kurt was standing on the doormat, his Dalton tie and collar visible above the wool of his coat. He smiled and shrugged. “Finn forgot to tell me where he was going this evening, but Mercedes texted to ask why I wasn’t here yet.” His smile softened. “It’s Christmas Eve, Mr. Schue. That’s a time for family.” Will couldn’t miss the way Kurt nodded significantly toward the ruckus in the kitchen.  
  


“Yeah,” Will agreed, feeling his smile grow in response. The apartment was loud and overflowing with students and too warm from all the bodies crowded into it, but it had never felt homier. “I guess it is.”   
  


Kurt looked like he was about to add something, but the moment was interrupted by a sudden burst of distinctly masculine shouting and Will sighed heavily when Sue’s strident voice rose above the mix.  
  


“I’d better get in there before someone gets drowned in eggnog,” Will informed Kurt ruefully. “You know where the coat hooks are.” He left Kurt nodding his assent and strode toward the kitchen to try and sort out the problem before things devolved into complete chaos.  
  


It took five minutes to pull Sam and Puck away from whatever they’d found, and longer to convince Sue that Christmas meant that punishments for squabbling should be lighter, rather than more creative. By the time Will and Sue were back to their odd truce and re-entered the living room, Rachel and Kurt had found the stereo and were leading a sing-along of the most secular (or at least evenly-distributed) holiday songs they could find. “Really, Sue,” Will found himself saying softly, under the strains of _may your days be merry and bright_ , “thank you.”  
  


The group had gone on to cycle through ‘Blue Christmas,’ ‘Good King Wenceslas,’ ‘Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer’ (cut short by collective guilt when Santana had to explain to Brittany that it was supposed to be a _humorous_ song), Adam Sandler’s ‘The Hanukkah Song,’ and many others, but eventually even mulled cider couldn’t help the sore throats and people began to trickle out. Will accepted the enthusiastic goodbye hugs and ‘Merry Christmas” wishes warmly, and ignored Sue’s attempt to give him a quick handshake in favor of pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. She was quick to inform him that her second Christmas gift was allowing him to live after that.  
  


Soon, it was down to Will, Rachel, Kurt, and Puck, who was attempting a raunched-up version of ‘Frosty the Snow Man’ for a bemused Lauren (Will, covering his eyes, wondered if he would ever be able to hear that chorus again without blushing). When Lauren finally rolled her eyes and headed out, Puck trailing after her following a grin and handshake for Will, Kurt shot Will a look over Rachel’s head and excused himself to the washroom. Will hugged Rachel back when she left and shook his head with a smile to her repeated offer of takeout dinner with her dads the next day. He promised that he’d let her know if he changed his mind, wished her a happy holiday, and waved her out with a fond smile.  
  


“Is she gone?”  
  


Will turned around at Kurt’s voice and raised his eyebrows. “She just left.”  
  


Kurt nodded and walked around Will to check that the door was locked.  
  


Will frowned. “Kurt, it’s Christmas Eve. Shouldn’t you be home with your family?”  
  


Satisfied that the door was securely closed and no one would be returning for forgotten coats or scarves, Kurt turned around with a shrug. “I was with them all day. Dalton actually takes the twenty-fourth off, unlike McKinley, and Dad likes to turn in early for when things get busy tomorrow, anyway. I told Finn that I wanted to ask you about how things are going at school, so they won’t wonder if I’m out late.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s believable because he’s the worst source of information ever, for the record. I had to hear about his drama with Rachel from _Quinn_.”  
  


“Oh.” Will blinked. “Ah, what did you want to ask me?” he asked cautiously.   
  


“Don’t make me say it, Mr. Schue,” Kurt huffed, arching an eyebrow. The exasperation in his tone sounded fond, and he paced forward, narrowing the distance between them.  
  


Will bit his lip. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the way this was becoming habitual and he distinctly remembered the way Kurt had talked about the boy at his new school, the look of adoration he’d glimpsed on Kurt’s face in the last moments of their duet. “Kurt-” he said, then stopped, unsure of what else to add as he laid his hands on Kurt’s shoulders to halt him at arm’s length.  
  


Kurt stopped, a look of confusion crossing his face. “Is something wrong?” He blinked and confusion suddenly shifted to excitement. “Wait, did you get a date? I swear, I’ll murder Finn if he knew and didn’t-”  
  


“I don’t have a date,” Will cut him off wearily. He decided not to focus on the fact Kurt assumed that the entire glee club would know if he got one. “It’s nothing like that, it’s just – I’m your _teacher_. Well” he amended, “maybe not anymore, technically. But we can’t keep doing this.” Kurt frowned and looked about to protest, but Will shook his head and squeezed Kurt’s shoulders for emphasis, doing his best to look him straight in the eye. “Sometimes, things happen. And sometimes they just… keep happening. But we can’t – I can’t be in a relationship with you.” Will winced a little as the words came out of his mouth. He supposed that sounding like a character out of a soap opera was preferable to feeling like one of _those_ teachers, but the little dignity he’d managed to regain after the caroling incidents was still smarting. “I’m about twice your age,” he reminded Kurt bluntly, trying to ignore the uncomfortable guilt of even needing to say it.  
  


Kurt looked entirely unmoved. “Trust me, Mr. Schue, I’m well aware. Besides, age and maturity are very different things.” Before Will could process whether or not he’d just been insulted, Kurt was pressing on, “And I’m not looking for a relationship. I thought I made it clear months ago that I never expected anything like that from you. Anyway, if it didn’t change our relationship in the classroom when I went to McKinley, I certainly wouldn’t expect it to change anything now.”  
  


Will frowned. “I just don’t think-”  
  


“Besides, this might have to be the last time.” Kurt’s words quieted Will’s half-formed protest immediately. Kurt was looking him steadily in the eye, offering him a half-smile that looked genuinely happy. “Blaine is – I don’t know exactly what he thinks of me, but I might have a chance. That’s more than I’ve gotten with anyone before, and I don’t want to miss that.” Kurt reached a hand up and rested it on top of one of Will’s, squeezing it lightly. “I know this doesn’t mean anything more than… what it is, but I can’t afford to risk it.”  
  


Will looked at Kurt’s earnest expression for a long moment, blinking away the mental whiplash from the quick change in the direction things were moving. Part of him wanted to ask Kurt if he was positive, if he was sure this Blaine wasn’t just a shorter Jesse St. James or another Finn, but the rest of him remembered that it was really none of his business and, besides, maybe this time things were going to go right. He also remembered the dreaminess that crept into Kurt’s voice when he said Blaine’s name, even through bouts of self-deprecating humor, and Will smiled ruefully, bowing to the inevitable. “Alright, then,” he sighed. “Come on.”  
  


Kurt followed along when Will ushered him through the apartment with a hand on his shoulder, smiling at Will with an odd mixture of gratitude and smugness.  
  


When they got to the bedroom, though, Will stopped. The bedspread was wrinkled and bunched oddly on one side, and he certainly didn’t remember it being that way when he left in the morning. Kurt followed his line of sight, glanced around the room, and blanched. “Oh my god,” he groaned, gesturing weakly toward a pair of lines tracked into the carpet’s knap when Will looked at him in confusion. “Brittany’s a terrible influence on him. You might want to change those sheets.”  
  


Will couldn’t help the horrified rictus that seized his face when Kurt’s meaning sunk in. “They wouldn’t.”  
  


“No,” Kurt sighed, leaning in against Will’s side as if for support, “they would. I dated Brittany, remember? Mercedes and I were wondering where they’d gone during ‘Carol of the Bells’.” When Will continued to stare at the bed in disbelieving horror, Kurt reluctantly straightened up and went over to the bed. “Look, I’ll strip the sheets while you get fresh ones, and it’ll be done faster.” He glanced down at where the sheet was visible under the mussed comforter and added, “And I can show you how to do hospital corners, your bed-making skills are giving me fremdscham.”  
  


Will didn’t bother to protest that making the bed had been Terri’s chore of choice – she had claimed that her job at Sheets ‘n’ Things made her an expert – but went to fetch new sheets out of the linen closet. The sooner he could wipe the incident from his mind, the better (and he determinedly did not think about the fact that three of his students or former students were going to be on his bed in a period of a few hours, because two of those, at least, had nothing to do with him).  
  


Soon enough, Kurt was showing him how to properly fold in the corners of a flat sheet, and it was so oddly domestic that Will had to shake his head for a moment to clear it. At Kurt’s questioning, “Mr. Schue?” Will just shrugged.  
  


“It’s nothing.” His gaze fell, as always, on the bright red ‘D’ on Kurt’s pocket and he sighed. “But would you mind taking that off? It can’t be very comfortable to stay in a blazer like that for so long.”  
  


Kurt gave the sheet one last tug and raised an eyebrow playfully. “Really? And here I had you pegged as a schoolboy fetish type, given the time with the desk and all.”   
  


Will grimaced and let Kurt help him fold the comforter down around the foot of the bed. “Not funny, Kurt,” he said bluntly.  
  


Kurt rolled his eyes. “Fine. It’s the same with the students at Dalton. Honestly, as soon as someone makes _one_ joke about headmasters and rulers…” he trailed off with an indignant huff and shrugged the blazer off, turning to lay it carefully over a chair.  
  


Will shook his head, but watched as Kurt paused before also carefully undoing his tie and the buttons on his shirt, laying both on top of the blazer. Then Will turned his attention to his own clothes, ignoring Kurt’s snicker as he shrugged out of his vest. Even in the heated apartment, the memory of snow lying thin on the ground outside pervaded the atmosphere like the lingering smell of hot chocolate and made the warmth of skin on skin sound very appealing. With that in mind, Will efficiently set about stripping off the rest of his clothes until he could settle himself on the bed, his back against the headboard with pillows propped behind him and to either side. Kurt blinked and resumed undressing, obviously pretending that he hadn’t been distracted by watching Will strip. Will didn’t manage to hold in his chuckle at Kurt’s stiffly affected nonchalance and received a glare for it as Kurt neatly folded his uniform trousers over the chair as well and stalked over, naked and blushing and brash as ever, to join Will on the bed.  
  


“You’re really sure about this?” Will couldn’t help confirming as the mattress dipped and Kurt threw a leg over Will’s legs, adjusting himself until he sat straddling Will’s thighs.  
  


Kurt lifted an eyebrow. “Should I sign a release form or something? Yes,” he sighed, shifting his weight between Will and the mattress until he was comfortable, the skin on the backs of his thighs and ass smooth and warm against Will where they touched, “I’m sure.”  
  


Will looked him in the eye all the same, searching for signs of hesitance or a sense of obligation, but his now-vestigial sense of guilt was eased when he couldn’t find any such thing. Maybe the entire situation was a little on the ethically gray side, but, Will reminded himself, this was the last time. After this, Kurt would focus his romantic energies on his new classmate at Dalton, more comfortable with himself for the experience, and Will would channel his energy into New Directions, those wonderful, amazing kids who were willing to invade his apartment for Christmas Eve and who were relying on him to keep the club – and by extension, many of their dreams – alive past Regionals. If this was the last time anything like this would happen, Will figured that he might as well take full advantage.  
  


“Alright,” he breathed out into the silence of the apartment, then curved a hand around the back of Kurt’s neck to pull him into a kiss.  
  


Kurt made a startled noise into Will’s mouth, but he relaxed under Will’s hands and lips, his hands coming up to Will’s shoulders to steady himself, fingers flexing curiously against bare skin. Will breathed in sharply through his nose and angled his head so that he could kiss Kurt harder, enjoying the way Kurt instinctively pushed back, the movement of his lips still somewhat clumsy and slow against Will’s, but obviously remembering what Will had shown him before.  
  


When the kiss broke and Will loosened his hold enough for him to pull back slightly, Kurt arched an eyebrow and breathlessly asked, “What happened to the no-kissing rule?”  
  


Will shrugged and rubbed his fingers over the back of Kurt’s neck absently, ruffling and smoothing the short hairs at the nape of his neck. His other hand had somehow wound up on Kurt’s knee while they were distracted by the kiss, and he let it idly drift up the outside of Kurt’s thigh, drawing a tiny shiver, as he tried to explain. “I guess that it doesn’t matter as much now. You have Blaine and I don’t teach you every day anymore, so…” He wasn’t sure how to adequately express why setting boundaries seemed to have less all-consuming importance this time than before, so he settled for giving Kurt’s upper thigh a light squeeze by way of emphasis.  
  


Kurt looked at him for a second longer, but his would-be dubious expression was ruined by the swollen flush of his lips and the way he relaxed into the hand resting on his neck. “All right, then,” he murmured with shrug, and leaned in unprompted to close the distance between their lips again.  
  


Will kept the kiss relatively chaste apart from their nakedness, content to let things progress slowly; there was no school tomorrow and he had nowhere he needed to be until a late brunch with his parents, so they could take all the time they wanted without interruption or risk of being caught. Kurt was a comfortable solid weight on his lap, shifting and shivering in response to the movements of Will’s lips and tongue and teeth, and Will had to nip at Kurt’s bottom lip to stifle his own chuckle when Kurt impatiently snaked a hand between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around Will’s cock. “There’s no rush,” Will reminded him, barely pulling away enough to mouth the words against Kurt’s skin.  
  


Kurt sniffed at that and adjusted his grip until he was able to give Will’s length a steady pull. Will laughed breathlessly and let his hand move from Kurt’s thigh to his hip, fingertips curling around to rest lightly on his ass. He let Kurt continue to pump his cock slowly, thoroughly, twisting his wrist and shifting his hold occasionally as if trying to memorize the weight and feel of it in his hand. Will let the warmth of arousal rush through him with each luxurious stroke, groaning low in his throat when Kurt paused to rub his thumb just under the head.   
  


“Having fun with that?” Will chuckled as Kurt continued to pump him, leisurely enough that he suspected it would become a painful tease if the pace continued for too long.  
  


Kurt’s teeth were suddenly nipping at Will’s lip, and when Will used the hand on his neck to tug Kurt back, he was glaring mildly. “This is my last chance to do this for a very long time, Mr. Schue. Save the teasing for someone else.”  
  


Will blinked. “What do you mean, last chance? I thought-” he had to break off when Kurt gave his cock an abruptly hard, possibly vindictive stroke that still made him shudder. “What about Blaine?” Will continued anyway, once the stroking resumed its previous gentleness and he trusted his voice. “I thought you were hoping that you two would…”  
  


Kurt shook his head firmly and his ministrations slowed to a halt. He was looking at his own hand on Will’s shoulder rather than meeting Will’s eyes. “Blaine is – That’s different. It’s a completely different situation with him. I mean,” Kurt’s lips twisted in a playful smirk, “nothing like _this_ would ever happen, for one thing.” His free hand was pulling Will’s hand more fully onto his ass, and he punctuated his point by slapping Will’s hand sharply, driving it against his own skin in a mimicry of a spank.  
  


Will felt himself flushing slightly, but Kurt’s face was turning even more steadily red despite the boldness of his actions, so Will just shook his head, bemused. ”Forget I said anything,” he sighed. And maybe it was entirely the wrong time, with Kurt’s hand still nestled around his cock warm and tight and making speech a little challenging, but he knew that Kurt didn’t have many offers of guidance when it came to his love life, so he felt compelled to seriously add, “But, Kurt, you need to know that if you really want something with him-”  
  


Kurt shook his head firmly, cutting Will off. “You don’t get it,” he said, suddenly brusque, his hand curling a little tighter around Will for a moment before slackening to a barely-there, unsatisfying hold that Will had to fight not to buck into. “Blaine is…” Kurt sighed, staring over Will’s shoulder, and there was that odd self-deprecation again, that look of utter infatuation. The loose fit of Kurt’s fingers was still subtly maddening, but Will found a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips anyway. He couldn’t help swiping a thumb against Kurt’s neck as he fondly remembered how it had felt to be seventeen and head-over-heels. Kurt swallowed hard. “I want to go on dates with him,” he said fervently. “I want to sing romantic duets with him, too, and be gossiped about by our friends. I want to color-coordinate our outfits when we go out – I’m not after Rachel levels of relationship crazy, obviously, but I just… I want to hold his hand. In public.” There was something tired about Kurt’s eyes when he met Will’s, but the rueful smile around his lips spoke of hope. “Maybe he doesn’t want that and maybe we’ll only ever be friends, but _this_ \- this isn’t the same thing as what I want with him at all. Do you understand?”  
  


Will couldn’t help the low pang of something like disappointment in his chest, but he was certainly _allowed_ to be… worried, for his student’s sake. He thought he understood in a way; when he’d been with Terri at first, he would have done anything for her to be allowed to so much as hold her hand between classes, but he was still a little nervous about Kurt’s insistence on investing everything into this one boy. All the high school relationships he’d been witness to since he started teaching had been so volatile, after all – walking into the choir room, Will was never sure on any given day whether half the room would be on speaking terms with each other. “I don’t know that I do,” he admitted ruefully. “Are you telling me that you want to give up everything for him and that you’re in love with him, but not in a sexual sense? Because you’re both teenage boys; that seems a bit unfair.”  
  


Kurt sighed, starting to look irritated. “Let me put it like this,” he said flatly, “I know that _this_ isn’t something you’d do with Ms. Pillsbury-Howell. It’s the same with Blaine, for me. He’s – this isn’t what I think about, with him.”  
  


Will stared at Kurt for a moment, and Kurt gave a tight shrug. That stung. The shot about Emma hadn’t been fair, and he knew Kurt knew that. Will was aware that he couldn’t have _anything_ with her, no matter how superficial, not with her being married and their once-easy friendship so strained by that marriage. Her Christmas Eve party, the one he just couldn’t attend, was probably going on at that exact moment, maybe winding down; maybe Carl was waving guests out the door while she cleaned up or maybe he had caught her under the mistletoe-  
  


A bitingly sharp kiss and a jolt of arousal as Kurt’s hand squeezed more tightly around his cock mercifully cut Will’s thoughts short.  
  


“The whole club likes you,” Kurt murmured after pulling away. He was looking down at Will’s shoulder again, and it wasn’t quite apologetic, but it wasn’t confrontational anymore, either. “They care about you enough to come and spend the holidays with you, alright? From what you said, it sounds like you had more people around and more fun this year than you’ve had in a while.” He began working Will’s cock at a leisurely pace again. “So relax, Mr. Schue.”  
  


Will sighed and pushed away the stinging thoughts of Emma and Carl. Kurt was right; he’d just had an apartment full of students who cared about him and a surprising Christmas miracle from _Sue_. With Shannon in the picture, Will had more close friends than ever, really. He tugged Kurt in for another slow kiss and Kurt went along with it easily, giving Will as a hard stroke made him shudder. Will dragged his teeth gently over Kurt’s bottom lip and let himself reflect that he wasn’t even ending the night alone.  
  


Kurt made a low noise into the kiss and Will could feel the tension ebbing out of his body under his hands as it went on. Kurt’s hand continued to work firmly over Will’s cock, but the pace was still slow enough to be maddening. Even when Will bucked his hips into Kurt’s hold in the subtlest hint he could manage, it picked up only slightly.  
  


“Come on,” Will heard himself mumble after a minute of the not-enough ministrations. He felt Kurt’s lips curve upwards in response and Kurt’s hand finally began sliding faster. Will gave a sigh of relief as his arousal ramped up and settled into something solid and pleasurable, rather than teasingly vague, and he rubbed lightly over Kurt’s thigh in thanks. He smiled when Kurt’s hips twitched involuntarily at the movement. It seemed like things had gone long enough, so he let go of Kurt’s neck to fumble the bedside table’s drawer open.  
  


Kurt broke away from the kiss to watch Will clumsily dig out the bottle of lube and a condom, then he shifted obligingly, resettling his legs on either side of Will’s thighs so that he was sitting higher on his heels, propped up slightly above Will’s legs.  
  


“Ready?” Will remembered to ask as he flipped the bottle’s cap open.  
  


Kurt rolled his eyes and nodded, his hand pausing mid-stroke as his eyes fixed on Will coating the fingers of one hand with lube. Will tried not to laugh at the way Kurt’s breathing quickened, but judging by Kurt’s sudden flush and annoyed sniff, he hadn’t been successful at hiding his amusement. As his hand slipped behind Kurt and he dragged his fingers down from the base of Kurt’s spine, Will, smiling, leaned in and pressed his lips back to Kurt’s, muffling his shaky sigh at the contact.  
  


Will almost groaned in disappointment when the warmth and pressure disappeared from his cock, but the click of the bottle opening and the sight of lube being squirted onto Kurt’s palm in his peripheral vision made him focus on his own movements instead, concentrating on teasing his fingertips around Kurt’s rim before stroking over it with gentle pressure. The feel of a slick palm wrapping around him again did make Will groan, especially when Kurt set up a faster rhythm of strokes, each pull eased by the slick lube.  
  


“Good?” Kurt questioned absently, his voice shaking even though he held perfectly still when one of Will’s fingertips finally breached him. Will paused in his careful push to feel the muscles fluttering around the digit before easing it in to the third knuckle and he hummed a wordless agreement; the smooth hot pulls around his cock felt amazing, and Kurt clenching hot and tight around his finger was a welcome tease of things to come. He continued to work him open, sliding first the one, then two fingers in and pumping them in and out until Kurt was rocking back against his hand and breathing hard, his hand’s motion growing shaky as his kisses grew uncoordinated and messy, not always successfully meeting Will’s mouth.  
  


Will laughed and gently tugged at Kurt’s wrist until he reluctantly took his hand off Will’s cock with a questioning, disappointed, “Mr. Schue?”   
  


Will shook his head in response. “I don’t want to, ah, lose it too soon,” he explained with a grimace. He tried to turn the grimace into a rueful smile and forced his fingers in particularly deep in apology. Kurt moaned low in his throat at the thrust, an uncontrolled shiver running over his skin and his hand clutching hard at Will’s bicep. “Do you think you’re ready?” Will asked, trying to keep his voice calm even though, God, Kurt was all slick burning hot clench inside, familiar now but still so foreign, and Will was so hard that it _ached_.  
  


“Yeah,” Kurt breathed, his hands settling on Will’s shoulders from where they’d been roaming over his chest and arms, leaning in to steal a quick, rough kiss. Will took a deep breath and eased his fingers out with an slick sound, landing his hands on Kurt’s hips to urge him to settle him further up, straddling Will’s hips.  
  


Kurt was already reaching down to clumsily roll the condom onto him, stroking over it with excess lube, and Will consciously did _not_ let himself think, as Kurt reached one hand hastily behind to hold Will’s cock and guide himself toward it without Will’s help, _last time_.  
  


But then Kurt was dropping down onto him with his eyes drifting closed and his lips parted and wet, and Will let the sudden clutch of Kurt’s body around him obliterate rational thought. Will waited with barely-controlled impatience until Kurt was settled, thighs spread shaking across his hips, to push himself down the bed enough that he could lean back slightly against the pillows and give Kurt that much more room to sink down.  
  


The sensation of his cock being surrounded and squeezed, even through latex, was as intense as before, so Will gritted his teeth to resist the urge to buck upwards before Kurt was ready and let himself look, instead. Somewhat guiltily, he allowed his eyes to skim past where Kurt’s cock rested flushed and hard against his belly, looking down at the trembling tension of his thighs instead, the muscles there bunching and straining with the tiny movements that shifted him distractingly on Will’s cock, calves and feet folded on either side of Will’s hips. Kurt’s hands had come back up to rest on Will’s shoulders for balance and Will smiled at a memory of Brittany waxing rhapsodic (for her own value of rhapsodic) about their softness the previous year, rubbing his own thumbs over the flushed skin covering Kurt’s sharp hip-bones in unconscious comparison.   
  


Kurt’s breathing was coming more evenly and the vice grip of his body around Will began to ease slightly, so Will drummed his fingers as gently as he could against Kurt’s lower back in question. Kurt’s eyes slowly blinked open again and his lips twitched into a small smile. “I’m good,” Kurt breathed, and Will bit back the impulse to sigh in relief or start thrusting immediately.  
  


“You’re sure?” he made himself ask, his hands clutching restlessly at Kurt’s hips.  
  


Kurt just hummed in response and lifted himself up a few inches, making Will shiver at the friction and the sudden heat as he dropped down again, taking Will in to the base. He made a soft sound and his fingers flexed against Will’s shoulders, but before Will could say anything or try to urge him into moving again, he was rising up a second time and letting himself sink back down. Will groaned quietly and let himself stay still and just enjoy the sensation.   
  


The careful pace Kurt was setting was too slow to be fully satisfying, but the feel of Kurt’s body taking him in time after time was still intense and pleasurable. Will gripped Kurt’s hips as loosely as he dared, wanting to guide and steady Kurt’s movements but not to make him feel rushed. Teasing or not, it was still sensual in a different way than his past experiences and he felt that he deserved to enjoy the lingering novelty of it while he had the chance – being with Terri had fallen into a certain rhythm once they were married, comfortable and conventional when they weren’t playing, well, games, and his abortive attempts with Emma and Shelby had been too depressingly short to move beyond a tease. Will waited for the familiar wince at the memories, but when the pang didn’t come, he almost chuckled in absurd relief as he realized just how much the present feel of Kurt clutching and gasping around him was easing the sting of remembered rejection. Shaking his head at himself, he decided to help out by flicking his hips up the next time Kurt sank down, drawing a stuttered whine from his throat.  
  


Will groaned at the way Kurt clamped down on him and decided that it might be time for him to help out; Kurt seemed to be content in taking his time to ride Will and Will was more than happy to give him that, but he certainly didn’t want to be selfish about it. So when Kurt lowered himself the next time, Will rolled his hips upward as much as he could from the awkward angle. It wasn’t much of a movement, but Kurt inhaled sharply all the same, so Will clutched his hips tighter and repeated it as best as he could, more or less matching Kurt’s rhythm despite the way his body urged him to go faster.  
  


The mattress creaked softly in time with their movements and the lamplight from outside barely registered in the bright light of the room, and Will had an inexplicable moment of amusement when he registered exactly how heated Kurt’s skin was under his hands, dampened themselves from exertion and arousal. _‘I’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice,’ indeed,_ he couldn’t help thinking.  
  


As Kurt began to move a bit faster, his lips parted to allow quick ragged breaths, Will vaguely heard himself murmur, “ _God_ , you feel good.”  
  


Kurt made a sound that was probably a laugh. “Thanks, Mr. Schue,” he said in a tight voice as he continued to rock himself on Will, his legs almost shaking with the effort.  
  


“No, I mean, really,” Will gritted out absently, the arousal pooling in his gut making it hard to think very hard about paltry things like words. “I’m – gonna miss this, I think.”  
  


He almost whined when Kurt stopped moving, panting harder than before as he stayed down, straddling Will’s lap with Will still deep inside him and his legs quivering on either side. Kurt made a noncommittal sound, but managed to say, “Give me a second. I need-” he broke off and leaned forward, resting his forehead against Will’s shoulder for a moment to rest, breathing hard. “Sorry,” he murmured.  
  


Will stroked the skin over Kurt’s hips absently while he waited, staring up at the ceiling and blinking hard and reciting the lyrics to Silent Night to distract himself from the intense heat surrounding and holding him.  
  


“I’m going to miss this too, a little,” Kurt allowed, injecting a quietly haughty note even as he spoke into Will’s skin. “Just a bit.”  
  


“You’ll have something better with your Blaine, though,” Will reminded him as kindly as he could. Maybe he’d join a singles group or something, if they weren’t all full of Ken and Emma’s old friends.  
  


“Like I said, that’s different.” Kurt’s legs weren’t shaking quite as hard, but he stayed still for a moment longer, breathing steadily. “And even if we ever did get to – to this kind of thing” Will raised his eyebrows at the glimpse of Kurt _blushing_ in his peripheral vision “I don’t know how it would – go.”  
  


“I imagine that it would… go something like this?” Will tried carefully, wishing that Kurt would just start moving again, because there was a time and a place for conversations about a student’s hypothetical future sex life, and this was probably neither of those.  
  


“Once again: no,” Kurt sighed, lifting his head and straightening his back again. The movement shifted him on Will’s cock, and Will tried not to moan. The cessation of movement was becoming almost unbearable, so he just nodded along when Kurt fixed him with a glare and firmly said, “He’s a romantic.” Kurt mumbled something else under his breath, but Will couldn’t quite make it out past the initial, “And he probably wouldn’t freak out if I suggested…”  
  


“Hm?” Will asked distractedly.  
  


Kurt shook his head. “Never mind.” He took a deep breath and informed Will, “I’m ready to – go, again.”  
  


Will almost cursed when Kurt abruptly began moving again, the sudden friction sending jolts of heat through his entire body. Once Kurt settled into the motion, it became clear that he was setting a much faster pace, with movements that were harder and less controlled, their bodies slamming together almost frantically. Will suspected that he wasn’t the only one who’d found the pause torturous.  
  


Even though the angle and movement rendered it awkward, Will still leaned up after a few thrusts to press a hard kiss against Kurt’s mouth, muffling the strangled gasps and whines driven out of him with every downward motion. Kurt’s fingers dug into his shoulders and he kissed back messy and harsh as he continued to ride Will.  
  


Will made a stifled sound of surprise when Kurt’s hand was suddenly gone from his shoulder and wrapping around one of Will’s own hands, dragging it impatiently over a few inches to where Kurt’s erection was standing, neglected. Will laughed into the kiss, almost receiving an annoyed nip in response, but hesitantly went along with it, awkwardly palming Kurt’s length for a moment before wrapping his hand around it and beginning to stroke. Kurt moaned low against Will’s lips and picked up the pace, breathing harshly as he bucked down onto Will’s cock and up into his fist.  
  


Will felt a warm rush creeping up on him again as Kurt sank down onto him again and again, sensation narrowing to the hot clutch around him and slick skin against him, Kurt’s breath puffing wet against his mouth when it wasn’t lips and teeth and tongue. He stroked Kurt as quickly as he could to draw those uncontrolled high sounds from him faster, and only realized that his other hand had moved back to grip Kurt’s ass harshly when Kurt groaned and leaned into it. Kurt’s hands were digging into his shoulders so hard he wondered if it would bruise, but it was suddenly worryingly difficult to care about anything beyond the arousal winding tight in his gut.  
  


Kurt had finally given up on kissing and was making a sound almost like sobbing on each exhale as he rode Will even harder than before, slamming down onto him fast and frantic, his cock throbbing hot in Will’s hand.  
  


“God,” Will got out as his hips twitched up without warning or restraint. The heat curling in him broke, turned liquid, and a strangled gasp broke out of him as everything narrowed down to uncontrolled pleasure and he was distantly aware of spilling into the condom, his fingers clenching tighter into Kurt’s ass and his fist curling tighter around his cock until Kurt’s movements hitched and Will felt his hand growing wet.  
  


As his awareness filtered back, Will realized that Kurt was leaning heavily against him, panting, his muscles slack. Will took a second to breathe, as well, gently removing his hand from Kurt’s flagging erection to wipe it thoughtlessly on the sheets. His other hand was still resting on Kurt’s ass, and he let himself stroke him soothingly for a minute, letting both of them catch their wind again.  
  


They rested like that for a little longer, but Kurt eventually sighed and straightened up, lifting himself up and off with a grimace as Will slid free. Kurt gingerly settled himself down on his side against the pillows and watched with an unreadable expression as Will pulled off the condom and knotted it, tossing it awkwardly at the trash basket.  
  


When Will looked back, he was struck for the first time in a while by the absurdity of the moment – his student (former or not, he couldn’t pretend that part actually mattered), naked, staring at him from the other side of the bed. He was suddenly acutely aware of the traces of come and lubricant slicking his hands, his crotch.  
  


But then Kurt was pushing himself up with a wince, shifting forward to press a hesitant kiss against his mouth. Kurt’s lips were twitching into a smirk as he pulled back. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Schue.” Before Will could respond, Kurt was carefully swinging his legs over the side of the bed and briskly asking, “Do you mind if I use your shower before I go home? I wouldn’t dream of using any of your bath products, but I need to clean up some before I get dressed.”  
  


Will smiled, the knot of tension unwinding in his chest. “Of course. You know that you’re perfectly welcome if you do want to use any of the-”  
  


“No,” Kurt cut him off with a wave of his hand as he stood, “I really wouldn’t dream of it. Believe me.”  
  


Will shook his head, but his smile didn’t fade as he watched Kurt disappear into the bathroom. He stayed resting against the pillows and waited until the shower started running before he located his boxers and pulled them on so he could make his way over to the window. Once there, he tugged the curtains to the side and gazed out into the night.  
  


There was no snow falling outside, but the night air was dark and clear, and the dusting on the ground glittered under the lamplight. Will let an unexpected feeling of contentment settle in his bones as he looked out on the still night, his apartment quiet aside from the thrum of water in the next room. His first Christmas after the divorce had been a surprisingly good one, overall. He hadn’t wound up watching old movies by himself, as he’d expected, and Sue and his kids had come through in a big way. He hadn’t even ended the night alone, and he’d be starting the new year with a clean slate, of sorts.  
  


Really, he told himself firmly as the shower ran in the other room and the winter wind whistled softly outside, everything had worked out for the best.


End file.
